Afterlife's Council
by SkiaWolf
Summary: The fate of souls rest in the hands of the Afterlife's Council, made up of experienced angels and demons who unite in order to keep the balance of good and evil. A taboo is committed which joins Damien Thorn and Philip Pirrup, the latter now faced with the struggle of drowning in forbidden, lustful sin.
1. The Fate of Souls

**A/N:** So here is my new fanfic! I've been planning this for months now so it's about time I finally started it.

 **Note:** The rating _will_ rise to M later in the story, so please bear this in mind if you do not like to read anything higher than T.

I hope you enjoy the first chapter!

* * *

 **Afterlife's Council**

 **Chapter One - The Fate of Souls**

* * *

Pale, elegant fingers pressed down onto the desk in front of them. Striking blue eyes met with other pairs in the room silently. Never did he feel as though he completely trusted those red eyes belonging to creatures the opposite of his own, but this was business, and they knew that too. Neither could allow their own personal feelings to get in the way of what had to be done.

The blonde boy was small in height, but the white feathered wings spread out either side of him were one of the greatest pairs in the room. He sat down slowly next to the others besides him, not once shifting his unblinking gaze away from those in front of him.

This was the Afterlife's Council. All matters had to be taken seriously.

"As you know, the soul recently belonging to a boy named Christophe Larue is one which angels and demons alike have been struggling to decide the fate of," the boy started. "This soul has been in purgatory for days now, though thankfully has been in the presence of an angel of death."

"You should have just left him on his own," said a demon on the other side of the rounded table, resting his chin on his hand with a provoking grin. "Maybe that way we could've seen what his actions would be like. That would have helped us to decide."

The blonde angel gritted his teeth. A hand was placed on his arm.

"Don't let him provoke you, Philip," the speaker, a kind angel named Token, murmured. "He has always been childish. We have to deal with this quickly – hundreds of souls have already moved on since we started and our expertise might be needed for another soon enough."

Philip breathed in and nodded. He knew that all too well – he was at a very high level among the angels, after all.

The Afterlife's Council was not just made up of those in this room – it was made up of any angel and demon capable of deciding the fate of souls, which after a while, the majority of them were able to do. In most cases, the deciding of the fate of souls was a quick and easy process, usually taking seconds. There were three possibilities: they were either sent to heaven, hell or given another chance on earth, the latter usually resulting after debate and questioning the soul. In both heaven and hell, they had the chance to either stay for the rest of its existence, or live another life. In heaven, it is the choice of the soul to live another life, whilst in hell, if they prove themselves to have good in them after all, then they may have another chance at life. There was also the possibility of becoming an angel or a demon, depending on the characteristics of the soul. Both creatures were vital in keeping the balance of good and evil, requiring them to work together to decide the fate of souls.

There were times when the situation with a soul was so complicated that it had to be decided during a meeting of both angels and demons. In this times, the souls had to remain in purgatory – the dimension between life and death. Angels of death, which are neither good nor evil, must accompany souls during their death and time in purgatory so they do not become frightened of their fate, or grow insane over being left alone in the lonely, black and white dimension.

Souls which were particularly difficult to settle the fate of usually required more experienced angels and demons, hence why Philip – one of heaven's purest angels – was now taking charge of this meeting.

"I suggest that you stop your childish comments, Eric," said Philip. "This is a very serious issue to deal with."

"He's right, Cartman, so shut your mouth," Craig said next to him, rolling his red eyes as he hit Cartman's arm with a black feathered wing to emphasise his words.

Philip nodded at Craig with approval, before straightening out the sheets in his hands.

"Allow me to go over the basics of this soul. Christophe was a complicated boy who often expressed his hatred for God. However, we are forgiving, and can see past this hatred. Christophe has had a very difficult life; dealing with the loss of his father, growing up in a poor and violent neighbourhood, as well as getting into the wrong crowd and being pulled into fights he did not want to be a part of."

"So wouldn't giving this soul another chance at life be a good idea?" questioned Bebe, a female angel with long and curly blonde hair. "I mean, we can't blame him for being born into a life with very little opportunity."

"But if we look over the past of this soul," said Craig, flicking through his own pages. "We can see that this soul has been given other opportunities to prove himself – he has only ever lived one life where he has done so, where he saved the life of another person. Can we really give this guy another chance?"

"But his recent life ended with being murdered!" Bebe argued. "We can never say for certain if this soul would redeem himself or not, because his life was ended before it was supposed to!"

"The end was fate, this soul has had plenty of opportunity to prove itself..."

"I agree with Craig," said Token.

"As do I," Philip said, shocking most of the demons, but not the angels – they never judged his opinion, even if it went against their own, and it wasn't always a shock to hear that the purest angel among them agreed with a demon. After all, he was fair, one of the reasons why he was so pure. "As an angel, I am of course a very forgiving creature. However, this soul has harmed many other humans in multiple lifetimes. I do not want other humans to continue to be hurt because of our pitiful decisions. We cannot be soft over this soul. Sometimes, harsh choices have to be made, and I believe this is one of them."

Philip's word was always very wise – hundreds of years of experience made it so. But this didn't mean that his word was always final. Or at least, his first opinion didn't always end their meetings. They could only end when everyone was in agreement or came to a compromise.

"I can see reasoning behind your opinion," said Bebe. "But what if we were to make sure that he was born into a better life, with more opportunity?"

"If it's in the soul's nature, then that would make no difference," Token retorted. "It is also unfair to give a soul much better treatment than others. It was agreed long ago that they are all judged the same way, with no special compromises for any of them."

The debating lasted much longer than the previous discussions on the soul, before the meeting had taken place. Though experienced angels and demons allowed for a fairer and much more reasonable conclusion regarding souls, it also resulted in much longer meetings due to the high amount of different opinions coming from both sides of the argument.

However, like every meeting eventually did, they had finished an hour later.

"The soul of Christophe Larue shall reside in hell, until he may prove himself to deserve another chance," Philip summarised, reaching his hand across the table. "Thank you to everyone for your input."

The angels and demons all shook hands, before each of them bowed and took their leave. To avoid conflict, the meetings themselves were held in a room located in purgatory, also allowing time to pass somewhat slower than the time in heaven and hell. Purgatory was able to be accessed by both angels and demons, unlike their homes, which could not be entered by the other unless they had permission to do so. This helped their focus to be purely on deciding fates. Centuries ago, it had mainly been to stop demons murdering angels in heaven, or even the opposite way around, but for many years now, what had seemed to be a constant hatred between the creatures had turned into an understanding that they needed each other.

It was all a balance which they had grown accustomed to, living through it in a perfected routine.

* * *

"So you settled on sending the soul to hell?" questioned Philip's superior. His name was Gregory, and was alike to Philip in some ways, but was also a lot different in others. They were both British and had blond hair reaching just past their chins, but Gregory's was slicked back off his forehead and was a little brighter. His eyes were also brown rather than blue and he spoke in a slightly posher voice, not to mention that he was much taller, with his wings even larger than Philip's. Gregory was at the highest level of all the angels. Rather than the humans' belief of a single God living for a lifetime, the role of a God was played by an angel, acting like a president would in the human world. A voting for either the God to remain or for a new God to take the role occurred every four centuries. Gregory held this current role. Of course, there had once been the God humans believed to be the creator of the universe, but the angels didn't know if they still existed as an immortal entity or if they died, like every angel does after a very long lifetime. The system of voting in a new God had existed for as long as they could remember – the same system was also used to determine the role of Satan in hell.

"Yes, we did," Philip answered with a nod. "We had decided that the soul had lived through many opportunities and was putting the fates of other souls at risk."

"Will he be observed to see if his behaviour improves and so deserves one more chance?"

"Yes."

Gregory nodded with approval. "Good. I do not want that soul to be subjected to live in hell for the rest of its existence."

"It was definitely a tough case though," said Philip. "It took a lot of debating before we settled on our choice."

"He was a very complicated one indeed. Luckily, the rest of the souls recently were much easier to deal with. I just hope that this soul can redeem itself."

The angel cleared his throat before changing the subject.

"I thought I should inform you that we have had a soul pass on very recently which we immediately wished to be an angel. They have agreed to become one."

"You decided on a human being an angel that quickly?" questioned Philip, his eyes widening. "Isn't that too soon?"

"They have a very pure soul. It's one of the purest I've seen since yours, Philip. They will make a perfect angel. Do not worry – they have already been told that if they realise that they want to live again as a human, we can allow it. We have their full consent."

Philip nodded, "I can accept the decision now."

"Thank you for your understanding," Gregory smiled. "I must ask though, is it possible if you could explain the life of an angel in a bit more detail? I feel like you'd be the best one to do this and obviously as souls usually aren't turned into angels so quickly, he's a bit overwhelmed with information and only knows the very basics."

"Of course I will," Phillip answered, returning the smile. "It'll be a pleasure to."

"I appreciate that," Gregory said, giving Philip his farewells before leaving. Just as he did so, Bebe was walking over, a red-headed boy by her side.

"Hey Philip, here's the new one!" she said, gesturing to the boy next to her. She turned to him with a friendly grin. "Don't worry sweet, he'll take care of you. He's the kindest angel around here, I can assure you! Have fun!"

With a wave of her hand, she was gone. The redhead was looking around him with both nervousness and awe. He was taller than Philip – though that wasn't difficult, and his wings were also smaller. His red hair was sticking out from his head in curls as though it didn't want to behave, and when he made eye contact with Philip, he saw that the new angel had beautiful green eyes.

"Hey there!" Philip smiled. He had the kind of smile which was contagious for everyone, and so the other angel also smiled. "What's your name?"

"I'm Kyle, Kyle Broflovski," replied the redhead, reaching out a hand to Philip, who took it.

"It's nice to meet you, Kyle. My name is Philip."

"It's nice to meet you, too," Kyle replied. He looked around him in awe once again, his eyes taking in the brightness and purity of heaven. "This place is, well, not really how I would have imagined Heaven to look like."

"I'm guessing you thought it would all be clouds and not much else, huh?"

"Yeah, I suppose so."

They both laughed, before Philip gestured for Kyle to follow him. They walked down the paving, Philip explaining Kyle's new home as they did so. The sight of heaven had obvious differences to earth, yet also had similarities. It was just like a basic city – not filled with clouds, like most humans imagined. But the city was made up of pure white buildings lined with gold, the brightness of which was more of a pleasure to look at than being blinding. Several angels walked around, each of their wings spread out into the warm breeze blowing past them.

"So the souls live separate from the angels?" Kyle ask, managing to tear his gaze away from the city around him to look at Philip besides him.

"That's right," Philip replied. "We've always believed that humans deserve to have free will and independence, including their souls in the afterlife. So we allow them to live separate from us, though they still live in heaven in bliss, until their souls expire."

"Expire?"

"Were you not told about that?"

Kyle shook his head. "I was told that angels die, but I didn't know about souls."

"It takes a very long time, but eventually, all souls are reborn again. It's a continuous cycle. The essence of a soul never dies completely – it just changes into something new. It's like the cycle of a star, in a way. We angels do not see death as an end, just as a new beginning. Even so, we want souls to have the best life possible here until they die. So we let them live in harmony with other souls, with the opportunity to see angels and God whenever they wish."

"It sounds lovely," Kyle said. For a moment, Philip thought that Kyle would have rather moved on to live in heaven, but then his smile grew. "I want to assist in every way possible to give souls the life that they deserve."

Philip grinned, reaching up to place a hand on Kyle's shoulder. "You're going to settle in wonderfully here, I can see it coming."

They spent the next twenty minutes going through the basic duties of an angel – to watch over souls living in heaven, study those on earth to learn more about the behaviour of humans, decide the fate of souls when experienced enough and, of course, fulfil the duties commanded by God. Philip thought it might have been too much to take in, especially as he had to hurry a little due to work he had to get done, but Kyle listened to it all very carefully and seemed to understand every word. Philip could definitely see why he had been chosen – not only was he pure, he was also very intelligent.

' _Hopefully he can assist me in some of this work once he's been here long enough,'_ Philip sighed as he looked over at the piles of paper which were being conjured onto his desk almost constantly. _'Sometimes it's hard to believe that I actually get breaks from this.'_

His skills were definitely taken advantage of – but he knew it was his duty, and this is what he had been warned about when he agreed to be an angel. With another sigh, he sat down at the desk and at the pace of lightning, wrote one of three words on each of the pieces of paper: 'heaven', 'hell' or 'reincarnated'.

He was very tired after the work, but at least there hadn't been any needing to be debated. He could finally rest.

' _A continuous routine they call perfect,'_ he thought to himself as he laid down onto his bed, his wings covering him as he closed his eyes. _'It sure is tiring.'_

* * *

 **A/N:** So there is the first chapter! I apologise if there was a lot of information to take in. You can ask me any questions, but I can assure you that things will be covered naturally as the story progresses.

Feedback, as always, is very much appreciated as I love to hear people's opinions! Thank you for reading!


	2. Looming Darkness

**A/N:** Thanks so much for the feedback! I'm glad people are enjoying this story and like the idea. There is much to come soon enough, so make sure to stick around to see it!

Enjoy the chapter!

* * *

 **Afterlife's Council**

 **Chapter Two - Looming Darkness**

* * *

Much to Philip and many of the other angels' relief, Kyle was already beginning to settle into the life of an angel just a few days after he had started it. It was quite clear that they couldn't have had more of a natural become one. Gregory's intuition was right – but that was always the case.

As selfish as he knew it seemed, Philip's main relief about Kyle falling into his role naturally was that he didn't have to spend his own working hours to assist him. Of course, he didn't voice this aloud and he was also relieved for Kyle's sake as well as his own, but he was able to relax just that little bit more with the knowledge that he wouldn't have to stay by the new angel's side constantly.

Philip would never say that he regretted becoming an angel. He had always been a hard-working person during his life as a human and he was glad he could continue that in the afterlife. The only issue he had was that due to his wits, fairness and kind heart, he automatically became one of the angels with the most work shortly after becoming an angel. It wasn't like the human world, where you could give yourself relief over how you will be paid extra for overtime, or that you have a leave booked for a holiday – the work was continuous, the only reward being the knowledge that you're assisting the flow of balance. It is something that is made clear before becoming an angel, so Philip couldn't complain. In many ways he _did_ enjoy the work. It was just the times where he felt pressure pile on top of him which made his work less enjoyable.

"Are you all right there, Philip?" Bebe asked as she sat down besides him. He was relaxing during the very few breaks that he had. He opened his eyes and turned to face her, smiling.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Just a little tired."

"You look more than a _little_ tired, honey!" she said, putting her hand under his chin so she could inspect the dark circles beginning to darken slightly under his eyes. "You need rest. You're obviously exhausted."

Sleep wasn't always a necessity for angels and they could often go for a long time without it. However, the more work they did, the more tired they became, eventually having to sleep to recharge themselves. Phlip often took the opportunity whenever he could to sleep, but it was obvious that he needed more than just a couple of hours.

"My work is more important, Bebe. I've been getting sleep anyway."

"Obviously not enough," she said, sighing as she leant back, still maintaining eye contact. "Why don't you give the next set of souls to pass on to someone else? I don't mind doing a bit of overtime myself if it means you get more sleep."

"I can get it done myself. The only reason why I'm given all of this work is because Gregory sees my expertise as fast and useful."

"I can't deny that your skills are the best among all of us, apart from Gregory. But you're not going to work as well as usual if you're exhausted. Please Philip, go talk to Gregory about you taking a rest. We can just split your upcoming work in between a few of us if you're worried about them not being completed fast enough."

Philip was about to decline her offer, but hesitated. She did raise a very good point there. He still seemed to be working as fast as ever, but surely that would stop if his exhaustion carried on? If he collapsed in the middle of deciding fates or in a debate then that would definitely be worse than him taking a short break.

So instead of declining, he sighed and nodded.

"You're right, Bebe. I'll go and talk to him."

"Oh, thank goodness!" she said, letting out a small cheer. "Come on, let's go now."

Philip sighed again, but allowed himself to be pulled up. She dragged him down the paving, earning a couple of chuckles from the angels walking by, looking at Philip who was breathing deeply.

"Slow – down – Bebe -"

"Gregory, sir!" she called, ignoring Philip as she hurried over to Gregory, who was speaking to Kyle next to him. The redhead seemed to still seem slightly overwhelmed by talking to God himself.

"What's the matter?" he asked, turning around to face the two angels, raising an eyebrow at the redness in Philip's face. "What did you do to him?"

"I made him run," she said simply.

"Of course."

She nudged Philip with her elbow in an attempt to get him to speak. He swallowed and rubbed the back of his neck. Never had he asked for a break – he had always just taken them when he had the chance.

"Sir, I was just wondering if I can extend the break I'm having for just a few hours?" he asked.

"He's exhausted. I don't mind taking over some of the upcoming souls he would normally have to deal with," Bebe added.

"Of course you can. Why would I say no? You've worked hard ever since you became an angel. Take a day or two off if you need to do so. I'm sure a couple of others will be fine working overtime."

"See, I knew it'd be fine!" Bebe said, smiling. "Go and rest up as much as you need to."

"We need you in your best state, after all," said Gregory. He hummed in thought and turned to Kyle. "I suppose this will give you a chance to learn about deciding fates."

"Already?" Philip questioned. It wasn't his intention to sound as shocked as he did, but this seemed to be a step too far. Four days and Kyle was already going to be deciding what happens to souls? Philip had understood why he was made into an angel so soon, but this seemed far too rash.

"I don't think I can do that yet..." Kyle mumbled.

"I do not expect you to do it on your own, not for at least a couple of weeks," Gregory responded. "Bebe, take him with you while you deal with the souls, show him how you decide their fates, and then give him some to do himself."

"All right..." she said after hesitating.

"Don't worry Kyle, I would not be letting you do this if I didn't believe in you," said Gregory, putting his hands on Kyle's shoulders as he looked down at him. "I have not seen so much potential in a new angel since Philip. I know that you will instantly be able to decide fates. It will be natural for you, I can see it."

Kyle nodded, looking a little more relaxed after listening to Gregory's reassuring voice.

"Good. The two of you may want to go now, to prepare yourselves and go through the procedure before you start."

"Of course. Have a good rest, Philip!" said Bebe, before she and Kyle walked away.

"His nerves will be gone after this," said Gregory. It seemed as though the words were slightly to himself as well as Philip. "He will be ready."

"Gregory, I know there is more to this than you simply believing that he has potential," Philip said in a quiet voice. "I've known you long enough to see that."

"I should have known that you would not be fooled," Gregory said with a laugh, though straight after he did so, he sighed. He gestured for Philip to follow him down the path, away from others potentially overhearing, even if it wasn't their intention. They walked in silence for a couple of minutes before Gregory broke it. "Though I am more than happy for you to rest, I need as many angels dealing with souls as possible."

"Why is that?" Philip frowned. "Has something happened?"

"Not yet."

"Yet?"

"I feel darkness coming, Philip," Gregory said, his voice barely above a whisper. "I can sense it looming closer and I know that it will be arriving soon. I can't allow the fates of souls to be in jeopardy because of this. That's why I need as many angels as possible to be able to decide souls' fates, just in case harm comes to one or more of us."

Philip didn't doubt Gregory's senses for a second. It was common knowledge that when angels were assigned as Gods, they were easily able to sense evil – even more so than regular angels. Gregory had always seemed to be able to sense darkness very easily anyway, so the fact that he was now God made this even more believable.

"Is there anything I can do to help?"

"For now, all I can ask is for you to rest," said Gregory. "I may need your help in the future, but for now, I need you at your best, and you can't be that when you are this exhausted. Until the time where your help will be needed comes, please, just focus on getting yourself back to normal."

Philip nodded, "I will do that. I promise I'll stay by your side when we encounter whatever darkness is on its way."

"Thank you, Philip," Gregory smiled. "I know that I'll be able to count on you."

The smile was strained, as though the God had all the troubles of the world piling on his shoulders.

 _'Maybe he does,'_ Philip thought to himself as Gregory walked away. After all, any darkness he could sense coming to Heaven was bound to be a threat to more than just their home.

* * *

As Philip was resting, Bebe took Kyle to her bungalow. Each angel had their own home – which was either a bungalow for themselves or a house they shared with others – and their office was situated inside.

"Welcome to my lovely home," she had said as they entered, grinning. Not able to waste any time, she showed him the way to her office, pointing at the pile of papers being conjured onto her desk.

"See those?" she said, walking over to the desk with Kyle close behind her. "Those pieces of paper each have a soul and brief details of it, allowing you to make a quick decision on their fate. The ones on top have just died and are currently either on their way to purgatory or are briefly staying there, while the ones on the bottom are ones which are dying and will be in purgatory in a few minutes. Watch me."

She sat down, with Kyle standing behind her, his green eyes widening at the pace she began to write on the paper. There were pauses each time for her to make a decision, but these were merely seconds. The paper vanished each time a word was written on it.

"How do you decide so quickly?" he asked, astonished.

"Practice," she answered simply, her eyes darting back and to as she read the notes on each soul. "You train your eyes to read quickly and your brain to decide a fate as soon as you read the notes. You're an angel, so your instincts are bound to be – oh crap, I spent ten seconds on that one, it's been a while since I've spent so long deciding..."

"This is amazing."

"Philip is much better than I am," she said, not once averting her eyes away from the paper. "He was a natural ever since he started, apparently. I wouldn't know as I've only been an angel for just over a century." Somehow, though her writing was delayed ever so slightly, her speed barely faltered as she spoke to Kyle. "Think you're ready to do some yourself? Don't worry, you can have the ones on the bottom so you have more time. Just write either 'heaven', 'hell' or 'reincarnated', or if you take a little too long as it's difficult to decide, write 'debate'. Both Gregory and hell's current Satan decide after that who should have a meeting over it, or decide between themselves if they have time."

Kyle nodded, "Yeah, I'll give it a go."

Inside, he was certain that he had never been so nervous before, but he knew that it would be best for him to learn through experience. Instantly after saying those words, the bottom pieces of paper formed another pile on the other side. With no time to be fascinated by magic, Kyle stepped round the table to the other side, sat down in a chair he had pulled over and grabbed a white quill lying on the table.

"You only need to dip it once," said Bebe without looking up from her work. Kyle dipped the quill into the golden ink – which he could have sworn wasn't there previously – before resting it above the page as his eyes scanned the pages.

 _'Tweek Tweak_ _will die in two minutes_ _at_ _age_ _16 due to accidental fall,_ _is_ _troubled but ha_ _s_ _a good heart and_ _is_ _caring for others.'_

Immediately after reading it, he wrote out the word 'heaven' on the page. If he was a caring person, he deserved to be in heaven, and Kyle knew that if he wanted another chance if he died so young from an accidental death, then he could just say so while living in heaven.

He watched as the paper disappeared, revealing the next soul.

 _'Trent Boyett_ _will die in one and a half minutes from a bullet at age 21._ _He_ _grew up in a rough neighbourhood on the streets after living with an abusive step-mother and has been the result of robberies and the deaths of three other humans.'_

This took a second of more thought, but Kyle settled on 'hell'. If the soul did indeed have good inside it then they would have another chance to prove themselves.

"Gregory's intuition was right – you _are_ a natural at this," Bebe grinned when Kyle had decided on another four fates, almost as quickly as her. He smiled, barely looking up from the paper, before writing the word 'reincarnation' on a page. A few souls later, he was starting to hesitate – some of these cases were a lot more complicated.

"Just put down 'debate'," Bebe said to him when she noticed he hadn't wrote anything down in the last twenty seconds. "If you've done the others so quickly, Gregory won't be angry at you for writing 'debate', even if he can decide it for himself."

Kyle nodded and did what he was told. Luckily, he didn't have to linger as much on the others, but was very conscious over how his writing was becoming slower, whilst Bebe was still writing as fast as ever.

However, once their piles were finally clear, she still gave him a huge smile.

"Nice one, Kyle!" she exclaimed. "I did nowhere near as good as that when _I_ did this for the first time. That was incredible for a first attempt!"

Kyle could feel his cheeks become warmer at the compliments.

"Thank you, Bebe. I'm just glad that I managed to actually do this."

"You did great, trust me!"

Her eyes looked away from Kyle when there was a knocking on her door.

"That's strange, most angels should be doing their own work or the rest of Philip's..." she said, mainly to herself, as she walked through the corridors. Kyle, not wanting to be left on his own in an unfamiliar environment and also just as curious as she was, followed. He had caught up to her by the time she had opened the door.

"An angel of death? What are you doing here?"

A cloaked figure stood just outside the door, his hood covering his eyes, casting a shadow on the lower part of his face. Kyle shivered – for some reason, the covered face gave him chills.

The voice, which sounded a lot younger than Kyle expected, spoke, "Just making sure everything's all right, sweetheart. There were some delays so I've gotta make sure that you're fine."

"Oh, of course... It's nice to see you again."

"Right back at ya," said the cloaked figure. It was clear by simply his voice that he was grinning. He turned to Kyle, his head tilting slightly. "And who's this handsome new one?"

"This is Kyle. Kyle, this is-"

"Ahem, _I_ can introduce _myself_ , Bebe," was the response. The angel of death stepped inside, pulling back his hood as he did so. Kyle was shocked to see what looked like an 18-year-old boy. He was extremely good-looking, with slightly messy blond hair and medium-blue eyes, which had a strange ring of grey around the pupil. His wings were incredible, both in size and their colour, for the top half was white whilst the bottom half was black. His smile revealed pure white teeth.

"The name's Kenneth McCormick, best angel of death around, but I'll let an attractive person such as yourself call me Kenny," said the boy, stretching out his hand. "Nice to meet you."

Despite being slightly thrown back by the angel of death's confidence, Kyle took the hand and smiled.

"It's nice to meet you, too."

No longer able to control herself, Bebe burst out laughing, clutching her stomach.

" _'But I'll let an attractive person such as yourself call me Kenny'…_ Oh, you absolute _dork!_ Take no notice Kyle, literally everyone who he gets along with calls him Kenny. He's just a _very_ confident guy who flirts at every opportunity he gets."

"Not _every_ opportunity..." Kenny laughed, rubbing the back of his head. "Anyway, so everything is fine?"

"Yeah, we were just delayed a bit because I had to explain the process, and obviously as this is Kyle's first time doing it, I didn't finish quite as quickly as usual."

"That was your first time deciding fates?" Kenny questioned as he turned to Kyle, who nodded. "That's awesome! You've sure got the grasp of things quickly."

"He's a genius, this one," Bebe grinned, ruffling his hair. But her expression soon grew serious. "Why did you have to come, though? I'd understand if it was a huge delay, but it only took slightly longer than usual."

The pause was a little bit longer than both Bebe and Kyle were comfortable with. Kenny cleared his throat before he spoke.

"Well, God and Satan say that they can tell something will happen soon. We can feel it too – the angels of death, I mean. I had to make sure that you weren't delayed either from being forced to decide fates for someone else, or that you were plotting something against the souls. It's stupid, I know. We've just been ordered by both of them to take every precaution."

"Satan can feel something like that, too?" Bebe said, her eyes widening. "The most evil creature in the world can tell something will happen? What is that going to be, anyway?"

Kenny shrugged, "No idea. That's all I was told. All I know is that I have to be cautious."

"Thank you for making sure I was all right."

"It's not a problem," said Kenny, his face lighting back up again. "I have to get going – lots to do. Nice meeting you, Kyle!"

Barely after the farewell, Kenny had vanished. Kyle looked at Bebe, concern written on his face.

"You don't think anyone will be harmed, do you?" he asked. "I mean, if Satan himself is worried..."

"It'll be fine sweet, don't worry. I'm sure it'll all turn out okay."

Kyle couldn't help but feel as though she was forcing her words to sound comforting and it was hard for him to believe her words. Regardless, he smiled and nodded, his expression the complete opposite of the worry he felt inside.

* * *

 **A/N:** I just want to say thank you for reading, and I hope that you're enjoying doing so as much as I am writing it! Reviews, as always, are appreciated.


	3. Taboo

**A/N:** Hey guys, welcome back to the story! This chapter is slightly shorter than the last but I don't like dragging out chapters when I can end it at a good moment. I hope you enjoy it!

* * *

 **Afterlife's Council**

 **Chapter Three - Taboo**

* * *

Tension filled the air over the next several days. The news of Gregory's worry had spread like wildfire across the angels. If their God had a concern, they knew it must be serious – after all, there was no one anyone could trust the judgement of more than Gregory. Despite this, the angels still tried their hardest to stop the news spreading to the souls living in heaven. They were there to live in peace, not to be filled with worry. Somehow, their efforts was successful.

The main difficulty was preparing for whatever dangers were ahead. Preparation was nearly impossible when they had no idea what they were facing. Even Gregory didn't have a single clue. He just told everyone to take extra caution and protect the souls of heaven at whatever cost, just in case any were attacked.

After Philip's break, he was back stronger than ever – which was fortunate for Kyle. Though he was coping very well considering what he had to do, he had been thrown right in the deep end by Gregory. The God's actions were understandable but could also be seen as rash. It was clear that it was an act of desperation. Gregory himself had confirmed this in his own words to Philip. Kyle was very thankful that he had Philip as his mentor. Bebe also partly had this role for when Philip wasn't available, but it was mainly down to him. He was very patient and understanding, so there couldn't have been a better choice for Kyle. It helped the whole situation seem a little less overwhelming. Stress levels were high enough as it is for everyone – Philip didn't want Kyle to feel any more stressed from far too many responsibilities.

"The work of an angel is easy enough to get used to," said Philip, the two of them sitting down together to decide fates. There was even more pressure on them now to not allow delays in purgatory, just in case anything happened there, what with it being neutral territory. The aim was to sort out souls so that they didn't remain there long enough to come in harm's way. Once they were in heaven, they were safe – surprisingly enough, same in hell. It might have been an awful place to be, but even demons couldn't – and wouldn't – break the rules regarding souls. "You're already picking it up quite quickly. It's only going to go up for you from here, I'm sure. You're delaying a lot less than you used to."

Kyle smiled, "I'm glad to hear it." He paused his speech for a moment as his eyes quickly read the notes. It was the same set-up as it had been with Bebe. Philip was dealing with those recently deceased, whilst Kyle was given those ready to die in minutes. Still, he didn't allow himself to delay. This was training, and he couldn't falter simply because he had more time than Philip. It wasn't until he had sorted three more fates that he spoke again. "Why is it dangerous for souls to remain in purgatory though? I know demons can go there too, but they follow the same rules as you do. If it's neutral territory, why is it risky?"

Philip didn't look up from his work as he spoke, but Kyle noticed him write slower, even if it was merely a split second. "I didn't quite understand that myself at first, but I can see why precautions are taking place. Anything can happen in purgatory – there are no restrictions to what creatures can go to it. Even if demons follow our rules and most would never break them, they're still more likely to do so. Also, the fact that it is managed by neutral beings might seem like a good thing, but being neutral means that you're neither good nor evil, and can be tempted by either. It's natural for an angel of death to only feel neutral, but some can become either a demon or an angel if one side appeals to them – all angels of death were once either a demon or angel, after all."

"Really? Can you tell the difference?"

"Yes – it's a very clear one. Those who were once an angel have wings which are white on the bottom and black on the top. This is a sign that they were once good, but most likely saw more sense in evil than regular angels do. We, of course, understand the reasons behind evil, but angels of death who were once one of us see it as equal to good and so cannot remain an angel – but this trait isn't a bad thing. As for demons who become angels of death, their wings are switched; the bottom is black, while the top is white. This is a sign that they grew apart from their evil side and saw reasoning behind good – basically the opposite. But both usually are just as neutral as the other."

"I see…" Kyle responded, his thoughts naturally finding their way to Kenny. He couldn't help but wonder how someone so cheerful was once evil enough to be a demon. However, he couldn't have been evil any more – after all, he was now a neutral being.

He wanted to know more, but when he glanced up for a moment from his work to inspect Philip's face, he decided against asking more questions. His superior's face was etched in concentration and he didn't want to ruin that. Instead, he continued to write on the pieces of paper, his speed increasing as he did so. He had become so focused that he didn't notice that Philip, who had cleared his own pile a minute later, was watching him, a small smile on his face.

 _'I couldn't be more glad that he's my pupil,'_ he thought to himself. ' _He truly is a-'_

His thoughts were interrupted by Kyle dropping his quill suddenly, a horrified expression written on his face. Philip's eyebrows furrowed as concern filled his chest.

"Kyle? Kyle, what's the matter?"

"I-I… He..." was all Kyle was able to stutter. The red-headed angel slowly rose up from his chair, backing away from the table steadily. "I can't… I..."

"Kyle, please, tell me what's wrong," Philip said in a calm voice, despite his worry. Kyle had been such a composed person up until now – the fact that he was here, his body beginning to tremble slightly, was a shocking sight to see, so much so that Philip found himself caring very little for the delay in deciding fates.

Kyle shook his head, a hand being raised to his mouth as tears began to fall down his cheeks. Philip glanced down at the piece of paper to find the cause of Kyle's distress.

 _'Stan Marsh, aged 18, will die in two minutes by suicide. He is a good person, a truly caring individual who has always stuck by his friends despite issues with his family.'_

"Stan Marsh..." Philip murmured to himself. His voice must have been heard by Kyle, for another sob escaped his lips. Philip turned around to look at Kyle, who was looking down at the floor as though merely glancing at the paper again would cause him more pain. "Kyle, please."

"H-He was my best friend..." Kyle whispered, his eyes still fixed on the floor. "We were best friends since kindergarten. He… He always stuck by my side… Especially when I was dying..."

Philip breathed in deeply, before pulling his student into his arms. Never in the past did he have to deal with this – humans were usually not made into an angel soon enough to witness the death of a loved one.

"Suicide… Why did he do that? Why-"

"Kyle," Philip interrupted in a soft voice. "You need to try to stay strong. It's our belief as an angel that death is a cycle which is not an end – your friend hasn't died completely, he is just moving on. He's not truly lost."

Kyle nodded as he clutched onto the material of Philip's shirt tighter, but his grip was quick to loosen when he looked over Philip's shoulder.

"The piece of paper just disappeared," he said, his voice shaking slightly, but it sounded much calmer than it did moments ago. Philip gently let go of Kyle so he could turn around.

"Yeah, that happens if there's too much of a delay. It gets sent to Gregory naturally. I don't know when it'll be sorted then; Gregory usually has others to do first..."

"So Stan is going to be in purgatory?" Kyle questioned, his eyes widening.

"Don't worry," Philip said quickly. "Purgatory isn't that bad when a soul remains with an angel of death – which he will be with until he moves on. He'll be completely fine."

Kyle nodded slowly, "Okay."

"I need to speak to Gregory," said Philip, placing a hand briefly up on Kyle's shoulder as he walked past. "I'm not… Well, in agreement with some of his rash decisions. I've never seen him so panicked. He hides it, but he can't fool me. He's never been so stressed before."

"Would you like me to come with you?"

Philip shook his head, "No, other papers there are disappearing – I hate to leave this on you, but they need to be finished."

"I'll do them now," Kyle said, wiping away the last of his tears as he hurried to sit down. Philip breathed in deeply. It had been a very long time since he himself had lost someone, but he still understood how much pain Kyle was in right now. The last thing Philip wanted to leave him on his own when he was like this, but did he have a choice? He couldn't allow Kyle's work to fail so soon – he vowed never to let that happen when he agreed to tutoring others all those years ago.

"I'll be back as soon as possible," he promised.

* * *

His hurried footsteps took him to central almost straight away – where Gregory spent almost all of his time. Philip looked at the large golden building for just a second before he made his way inside, where he was greeted by Rebecca, nicknamed 'Red' by those close to her. She was at the same level as Philip, but the latter much preferred to work in the comfort of his home, rather than in this building, where some angels liked to gather to assist each other in their work.

"Hey Philip," she said, brushing away strands of red hair from her face as she looked away from the sheets in her hands to him, giving him a pretty smile. "What's the matter? Have you finished work?"

"Yes, and I was hoping to see Gregory."

"I don't think that's the best idea right now," she responded, biting her lip. "He seems awfully stressed and is working a lot at the moment."

"Ah. Well, please tell him to come and see me as soon as he's free, I need to speak to him. I best get back to Kyle, so I'll see you later."

However, when he began to walk away, Rebecca grabbed onto his arm.

"Is there anything I can help with? You seem… Angry. It's not like you."

"This is something I only need to speak to Gregory about," said Philip. "But thank you for your concern."

"It's no problem. I'll tell him when I-"

"Am I the subject of your discussion?"

Rebecca visibly jumped slightly, obviously not expecting the voice of her superior. Philip's eyebrows raised – Gregory looked more than just stressed, he looked _ill._ His usually alive eyes seemed somehow darker, with dark shadows underneath them. However, his hair was still slicked back and his clothes tidy, as though he was trying to make an effort to seem like he was feeling as fine as ever.

"Yes, I need to speak to you," Philip answered.

Gregory sighed, "Very well. I sensed your arrival, so I presumed that you were here to speak to me. Rebecca, please sort through the rest of the delayed souls that were conjured to me – they'll be on your desk ready for you."

"Yes, sir," Rebecca said immediately. Philip and Gregory were then left alone just seconds later.

"You seem… A little angered."

"Kyle shouldn't have been made into an angel so soon," said Philip. No other angel would dare to voice their objections in such an abrupt manner, but Philip was an exception – he didn't worry like the others and knew Gregory would always listen to his opinions. "Yes, he has a natural talent, but it was far too soon for him to take on such priorities."

"You are aware of the reason why-"

"Humans should never become angels so quickly, because they could end up deciding the fate of a loved one!"

Gregory was silent for a few moments, his tired eyes widened. "He… He had to..."

"Yes, he did. His best friend, to be precise – they committed suicide. Whether it was because of Kyle, I don't know, but what I do know is that Kyle just had to face that. That's why there's going to be a pile for Rebecca to sort through. But delays and souls being in purgatory aren't what I'm talking about right now, it's the fact that because Kyle was made to decide fates so soon, he ended up being faced with the death of his friend."

"I… I had no idea..." Gregory sighed, running a hand through his hair. "If I had known this would happen, I wouldn't have made that decision. How is Kyle faring now?"

"He seemed slightly better before I left, but I can't know for sure."

"I'll go right now to apologise," Gregory said.

"But Rebecca -"

"- Is trained well enough to do a little overtime. I'll make sure she'll get an extra break for it. I just need to try and fix what my rash decisions have done."

The look on Gregory's face was one of pure guilt and sorrow for Kyle. The expression made Philip's anger begin to disappear rapidly. He'd always known that Gregory would never intentionally let something like this happen, and like any other creature, he made a rushed decision when faced with stress. Philip couldn't stay angry when he knew that he – and anyone else – could potentially make similar, questionable decisions under pressure.

"I'll come with you," Philip responded. However, just as they left the grand building, Token was running up to them, panting.

"Gregory, there's been a disaster, a complete disaster-"

"Calm down, Token, and tell me what happened."

"In purgatory – An attack –"

Gregory looked past Token's shoulder to see an angel of death with his arms slumped over the shoulders of the two angels, being half-carried towards them.

"Kenneth..." Gregory murmured before he ran over to the injured angel of death, Philip in close pursuit. "Kenneth, what happened?"

"They… They attacked…" Kenny mumbled, his head raising slowly and shakily as though it was taking every ounce of his strength to do so. His left eye was heavily bruised, as was the side of his face, with blood trickling down from his forehead past them. "From behind… Didn't see it coming… No others around..."

"Do you know who attacked?" Gregory asked in desperation. "Or why they did so?"

"Don't know who… Know why..."

"Why did they attack you?"

"The soul – I was with a soul… Attacked me, then… Then they destroyed it..."

A stunned silence fell on the scene. Not even Gregory was able to say a word.

Destroying a soul was possible and was most easily done inside purgatory, but the crime hadn't been committed for many centuries. It was a taboo among angels, demons and angels of death to do such a thing, for even the premature death of one soul could assist in tipping the balance of not just good and evil, but also life and death. One soul's death could lead to others believing they could do the same to another soul, despite it being an agreed, unquestioned rule among them to not end the life of a soul before it expires naturally.

"A soul?" Philip said, breaking the silence in a voice which was barely over a whisper.

"I'm sorry… Couldn't… Couldn't stop them..."

"We need Kenneth to be healed, we cannot leave him like this!" Gregory suddenly shouted. "Get the best healers we have!"

There was a sudden rush to gather those suitable for the task, in which Gregory bent down in front of Kenny, hesitating as though the last thing he wanted was to push the blond into speaking more.

"Kenneth, I need to know one last thing so I can deal with this. What was the name of the soul when they were alive?"

"They said… They said they were called Stan..."

* * *

 **A/N:** Just thought I'd mention that Damien will be coming in veeeery soon, I assure you. I just needed to get into the story first - I don't want to rush things too much.

I would appreciate any reviews greatly, as feedback is the best thing to motivate me! Thank you to anyone who does, and until next time!


	4. Uniting

**A/N:** Here it is, the chapter in which a certain character I am sure the majority of you have been looking forward to appears. Enjoy!

* * *

 **Afterlife's Council**

 **Chapter Four - Uniting**

* * *

"Stan Marsh?" said Gregory. He turned to Token behind him. "Make a note of that name."

"Stan Marsh..." Philip murmured to himself. "That was Kyle's best friend, the one who ended up in purgatory because he froze!"

Gregory's face turned pale. "Are you certain?"

"Positive."

"This may have not happened if I hadn't been foolish," Gregory said. He looked very disgusted with himself.

"It's happened now – we have more things to worry about," said Token.

"He's right," Philip added, nodding in agreement. "We need to find out who did this and put a stop to them before they do anything else."

"Yes… Yes, that's right," said Gregory. He cleared his throat, his expression immediately changing to one which was much more determined. Philip wasn't too sure if this matched how he felt on the inside, but it was still much better than he had been previously. Gregory wasn't the sort of person to be angry with himself and it was hard to react to. "As soon as Kenny has been healed, we'll ask him more questions. He needs to rest for now."

Philip nodded in agreement, watching as Kenny was carried away by several angels. They were some of their best healers – with their skills, Kenny would be right back on his feet in what would probably be less than two hours.

"I don't know how I'm going to tell Kyle this," Philip sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "But I might as well do so now, considering we can't really do anything until Kenny is at least partly healed."

"I'll come with you," said Gregory. "Unfortunately, I played a huge role in what has happened, so it's only fair. Token, could you and any other you feel capable to do so pass on the message to other angels? Tell them not to panic; I am sure we will get to the bottom of this soon."

"I will do so, sir," said Token, bowing slightly before he walked away.

"Even if they get told not to panic, they're naturally going to," Gregory sighed. "This has not happened in centuries, after all… Regardless, let's go to Kyle and explain this to him."

Philip nodded, and the two of them began to walk down the paving. News had somehow spread quickly from those who had watched the scene, because multiple angels kept stopping Gregory and Philip in their tracks to ask panicked questions.

"Gregory, how did something like this happen?"

"Who would do something like this?"

"What are we going to do? Are we all in danger?"

Each time, Gregory had to interrupt and try to explain that things will soon be under control, that they were to question Kenny as soon as possible and that the culprit is bound to be discovered sooner or later. And each time, though he kept his voice as calm as possible, Philip could see him become more and more agitated.

A couple of minutes later they were encountered less times. They didn't even have to walk the whole distance, for Kyle was approaching them.

"I thought I should come and see where you were as I finished the papers a while ago," he said. Philip noticed how though he was clearly still distressed, he seemed a lot more relaxed. His heart sank – how were they going to say that the soul of Kyle's best friend had been destroyed?

"Kyle, I want to apologise," said Gregory. "I should have realised that by making you an angel, something like this could have happened. I was under a lot of pressure to get you into work, but this is not a reasonable excuse. I am sorry that this happened to you."

Kyle, as though he was unsure of how to react to this, was silent for a few moments, before he smiled. "Thank you for apologising, sir. I believe it was mainly the shock that affected me. But whilst Philip was gone, I started thinking about what he had said. He's right: Stan isn't gone completely, he's just moving on. Even if I can't see him in the afterlife, at least I know that his soul is still out there."

His smile faltered at the tense silence after he spoke those words.

"Or… Or am I missing something?"

"W-Well, he..." Philip stuttered, unable to say anything else.

"Something has happened, Kyle," Gregory continued for Philip, his voice remaining calm. "You remember the taboo that was discussed with you, do you not?"

"Yes, of course I do, why..."

His words trailed off as his mind put two and two together. Philip thought Kyle was going to break down again like he had done earlier, but he didn't – a hand went shakily up to his mouth, his face going pale.

"H-He… He..."

"I'm sorry, Kyle," said Gregory, shutting his eyes as he took a deep breath. "I can't help but take at least most of the blame for this."

"N-No, it's my fault," said Kyle, his voice trembling. "Philip had said that you were avoiding souls being kept in purgatory, yet I still let myself get controlled by my emotions… Unless it wasn't in purgatory that it was dest-" He paused, as though speaking those words was much too difficult. "That it happened?"

"It was," Philip confirmed, finally finding his voice. Perhaps Kyle's reaction had helped – he had expected him to be a lot worse than this, at least, on the outside. "Kenny was attacked by whoever did this."

"Kenny?" Kyle blinked. "Someone like him doesn't deserve this… Is he in central?"

"Yeah, he is," Philip replied. "Do you want-"

But Kyle had already walked away. Philip sighed and turned to Gregory, rubbing the back of his neck.

"That's not exactly how I would have liked this to end," he said.

"He reacted to it fairly well."

Philip shook his head, "That might be how he appears on the outside. Inside, he's most likely breaking down – he just doesn't want to end up doing that again in front of me. I can tell from how he just walked away, then."

"Yes, you're most likely right," sighed Gregory, looking in the direction that Kyle had rushed away in. "He's probably going to be after receiving answers from Kenny about what happened. We should go after him."

Philip nodded, his footsteps nearly at a jog to catch up with Gregory's long strides, a thousand words swirling around his mind as he tried to think of which ones to string together in order to comfort Kyle.

* * *

After being directed by a few angels, Kyle managed to find his way to where Kenny was being attended to. Angels were surrounding the injured angel of death, whose appearance made Kyle wince. He hoped that the bruises and cuts inflicted were healing. An angel with short blond hair was currently pouring a glistening liquid into a wound inflicted on Kenny's head. Though the injury itself was covered by strands of blond hair, the dried blood – which was slowly disappearing by the liquid – made it obvious that there must be a deep wound inflicted underneath.

"Oh, hello Kyle," said Token when he saw the red-haired angel standing in the doorway. With a brief smile at a brunette girl, who was rubbing some kind of cream onto the bruises on Kenny's arm, he walked over to Kyle. "Kenneth will be all right. He's a tough one."

 _'He must be tough if he will be all right after that…'_ Kyle thought to himself, inspecting the injuries. It was a horribly strange feeling to see someone who had been so bright and cheerful to be laying unconscious from an attack he must have been helpless from.

"What are you giving to him?"

"Healing potions," Token replied simply. "He'll be okay again in no time. These ingredients are usually just used for angels, but when altered slightly, they're perfect for angels of death."

Kyle nodded slowly. He was still trying to grow accustomed to the whole idea of magic. With his growing knowledge of the afterlife, however, he didn't have a hint of surprise.

"Oh, Kyle, you made it here," said Philip's voice. Kyle turned to see him standing by Gregory's side.

"Yeah, a couple of angels told me where he would most likely be staying," said Kyle, smiling. Philip couldn't help but notice that the smile was strained, as though Kyle was using most of his energy just to maintain it. Though it was painful to see, the fact that Kyle was even trying was admirable.

"He already looks much better now," said Gregory, walking over next to Kenny. It was true – the cuts were healing over by themselves since the potion had been poured into them and the bruises were slowly vanishing. The heavy breathing was now almost completely normal. "You have done a fine job here."

"It's not just us!" said the blond angel. "Kenny is extremely tough. Even while unconscious, he is determined to keep fighting, just like he always has."

Gregory nodded in agreement. "Yes, that is most certainly true. He's proven himself to be a fine angel of death."

"As you would know from his wings, Kenny started as a demon," Philip said, turning to Kyle. "But he is one of the most honest angels of death you will ever meet. It makes you wonder sometimes how he became a demon in the first place."

"His soul _had_ been a very difficult one to decide; I presume that becoming a demon was his fate, for it had led him to what he is today," Gregory added. His face was written with pride over him, even though he wasn't the one to decide that he became an angel of death. It truly showed just how much he cared for the development and journey of others.

Surprisingly, it wasn't long before Kenny began to stir. They all looked over him in surprise.

"I wasn't expecting him to wake for at least another hour," said Token. Kenny's eyes slowly opened. He sat up immediately after he blinked, hissing in pain as he did so.

"Damn, those bastards sure knocked me up a bit," he said, rubbing the back of his head.

"You shouldn't even be sitting up, Kenny; you've not fully healed yet," said the brown-haired girl, sighing.

"Stop worrying, Heidi, I'm fine," Kenny said with a shrug of his shoulders. He made eye contact with Gregory, the smile vanishing from his face. "I'm sorry that I couldn't stop them, I really am."

"It isn't your fault, Kenneth. You do not have to apologise."

"What exactly happened? How did they end up attacking you?" Philip asked.

"I took the soul away from the angels of death and the odd other soul nearby, as he was a bit freaked out about his death and was talking to me about it," Kenny started. "He had committed suicide so he was worried, saying things like he wasn't sure if he had made the right choice, he was just devastated over..."

His words drifted off, looking over at Kyle, whose eyes were fixed on the floor, his teeth biting his lip. He was obviously trying not to cry.

"… Anyway, I was sitting with him and trying to calm him down, saying that the afterlife is nothing to be afraid of and he would possibly get another chance at life. That was when I was hit from behind. It wasn't enough to take me out, but they were soon onto that. I had three people hitting me to a pulp after they shoved a rag over my eyes. Stan was yelling at them to stop – even though he knew that he was in danger, his main concern was me. I couldn't see anything because of that damn blindfold, which I had barely managed to tear off after they stopped, but by then it was too late. Stan had let out a scream before I could see again, and when I managed to crawl over to where he was before, all I could find were traces of dust."

"The only thing left of his soul," Gregory murmured. "Perhaps just enough to be reborn, if we are lucky. But it will take a long time for such small fragments of life to move on if they have expired so long before their time."

"Do you know how he was left like that? Any idea at all?" Philip questioned desperately.

"Well, I think it might have been the Sword of Vita."

There was a very tense pause. Kyle, who had previously been struggling to listen due to his pain, looked between them with confusion.

"Sword of Vita? What's that?"

"It's a sword which can kill any creature and its soul before it is ready to expire," Philip explained. "Angels, demons, angels of death, souls themselves… Anything."

"Why would something like that be created? And how would they have got it?"

"It was created just in case a soul was beyond control and needed to be reborn as something entirely new," said Gregory. "The same applies to an angel or demon who tried to use their beliefs to take over, or to any other creature who could disrupt the balance. Of course, the sword itself can disrupt the balance, like it has done now. As for how they got it, we can't be certain. It is sealed in another dimension. The ones who have taken it must be very powerful to cross dimensions like they did and be able to access it, or at least be very clever to do so and found a way around it."

"How can you be sure that it _was_ the sword though, Kenny?" asked Philip.

"I could feel the power of it," Kenny replied. "I had never felt anything like it. It couldn't have been anything else."

Gregory nodded, "I believe you." He turned to Philip. "We'd best go and gather the angels to explain this properly. They're all in a panic and need to know how this happened, now that we have heard Kenneth's story."

"I'll come with you, too," said Token.

"Can I..." Kyle started, his eyes fixed on Kenny. "Well, can you tell me about Stan? Like what he said before he was… Was k-killed?"

Kenny immediately nodded. His expression had never seemed so serious. "Yeah, of course."

The other angels followed Gregory, Philip and Token out of the room – Kyle, after all, needed the closure, and their presence would surely interrupt any talk between the two left behind.

* * *

The panic amongst the angels died down when a true explanation over what had happened was given to them. Of course, anxiety had spread like wildfire, but at least they knew exactly what happened and that proceedings were immediately taking place to catch the individuals who had committed the crime. The worst worry was the knowledge that the attackers would still have the sword, but Gregory had calmed this a little when he explained that the sword could not be used repeatedly – it had been designed to store its power if it is used more times than it should be used for, which the limit of is very short. It was rarely used and was always a last-minute resort, so naturally, precautions had been made when it was created.

It had now been a few hours since he and the others had left Kyle with Kenny. Concerned for the emotional state of Kyle, Philip was just about to go search for him when he saw Rebecca making her way over to him. She looked slightly uncomfortable and was biting her lip.

"Gregory needs to see you," she said. She was picking at one of her sleeves, something that she did when she was nervous.

"Are you all right?" Philip frowned.

She jumped. "Yeah, I'm fine… Just a bit in shock. I mean… Well, you'll see when you're there."

With a comforting hand on her shoulder for whatever had shaken her up, Philip smiled softly before making his way over to central, which luckily wasn't far. He didn't want to spend too long with Gregory – he did, after all, have Kyle to go to.

He shuddered when he opened the large door of the golden building and stepped inside. It felt strangely cold inside. The closer and closer he got to Gregory's room, the more his presence seemed to be filled with an evil entity which filled him with a strange feeling of fear. What on earth was causing this?

He was given an answer when he opened one last door.

"Ah, Philip," said Gregory, turning around at the creak. "You're here. There is someone I would like you to meet."

Philip didn't need to be introduced to the man, for he knew instantly who it was and why exactly Heidi had seemed so nervous.

"You have _got_ to be kidding me."

"My my, why the harsh tone before I even introduced myself properly?" the man chuckled deeply. He stood tall – even taller than Gregory – with shockingly pale skin. Despite the nerving red eyes, his face was attractive, with a well-structured jawline and cheekbones, his lips almost as pale as his skin. He had a head of black, messy hair, contrasting with his paleness. The largest black wings Philip had ever seen on a demon were stretched either side of him – but then again, this was no ordinary demon. "Please, where are your manners? My name is Damien Thorn. I am the current ruler of hell. Though of course, you were most likely already aware of that."

One large hand stretched out, but Philip didn't take it.

"Is it wise, Gregory," the angel started, facing Gregory. "To let Satan be in heaven?"

"I'm insulted, do you not trust me?" Damien said, mocking a hurt voice, but he was smirking.

"Surprisingly enough, I don't."

"Philip, please try to be civil," asked Gregory. "Yes, Damien is a dark creature, but just like me, he plays a vital role in maintaining the balance – as do the other demons. His help is needed."

"I understand that, but allowing him into heaven..."

"Oh Pip, I'm not going to go on a mad killing spree!" Damien laughed, his voice anything but reassuring. "Just because I am Satan, it doesn't mean that I am stupidly evil. I have the same kind of rules to follow as Greg here."

"Fine," said Philip, gritting his teeth. "But don't call me Pip."

"I'm the ruler of hell, Pip," Damien said in a drawling voice. He raised an eyebrow. "Do you really think that I'd listen to you about your dislike of a nickname?"

"Don't start arguing, we don't have time for this," Gregory sighed. "Please, just try to get on. I introduced you because you are both extremely intelligent and I am sure that you two can assist each other in our investigations."

"All right," said Philip, slightly reluctantly. "I understand and I trust your judgement."

"I look forward to working with you, Pip," said Damien, giving a small bow which couldn't have been anything other than patronising. "I'm sure we'll work _beautifully_ together."

"Uh-huh," said Philip in what was probably the most sarcastic voice he had ever spoken with. Gregory looked frustrated over this. Damien, however, grinned.

"Stubborn, huh? I like that." He turned to Gregory, inclining his head. "I'll be seeing you soon. Does tomorrow sound fine for you to come?"

"Yes, that is fine. It gives us a chance for us to speak to our acquaintances."

Damien nodded in agreement. He turned to Philip, their eyes meeting. The latter shuddered internally, doing his best to not let it show on the outside. However, the slight smirk he received suggested otherwise.

"Farewell for now," said the demon, before he raised a hand, causing him to disappear in a flash of fire. Though it was blinding, it was like it had never existed – the white carpet wasn't burnt in the slightest. The room _did_ feel warmer, but that was only because Damien had left. Philip breathed out, feeling much more relaxed without the presence of evil weighing down onto him.

"I do hope that you grow to be a little more… Understanding of Damien," Gregory commented. "Despite what one may expect, he plays his role very well and with your wits, I am sure that you'll work in harmony."

"Yes. I probably just need to get used to him," Philip said, forcing a smile. "I must really go find Kyle now, if you'll excuse me."

With a polite nod of his head, he took his leave.

He understood completely where Gregory was coming from and knew that working so closely with demons was the only way to get behind who was behind committing the taboo – after all, angels and demons think differently, so getting suspicions and opinions from either side was vital. However, Philip could feel himself already growing a strong dislike for Damien. His overwhelming presence, his smirk, his patronising tone… It was all to be easily hated. It was hard to imagine that Philip could ever grow anything more than hatred for someone so unlike himself.

* * *

 **A/N:** Damien is one of my most favourite characters to write. With his lack of appearance in the show and how much you can expand on his character, especially in AUs, he is just so fun to use with different ideas!

Anyway, I hope that you enjoyed the chapter - I'd love to hear your thoughts!


	5. The Start of Sin

**Afterlife's Council**

 **Chapter Five - The Start of Sin**

* * *

Kenny waited until the angels who had been in the room had left before even opening his mouth to speak. This was private for Kyle – he had been asked, after all, to talk about the last moments of the soul of Kyle's best friend.

"As soon as he understood where he was and who I am, Stan was immediately talking about you," Kenny started. "He wanted to know what had happened to you and if he would ever see you again. I hesitated, because we usually can't speak about these things, but I was certain he was going to be in heaven anyway and get his answers so I thought I could bend the rules for him. I told him that you had become an angel. He smiled at that. He said that you had been the most caring person in his life."

Kyle's lips curled into a smile. He wasn't able to say anything, but words weren't needed – a smile had appeared on Kenny's own face, as though he was truly joyful that he could tell Kyle something positive about Stan.

"Even right there in purgatory, his main focus was you," he continued. "He asked me a few questions about how you were going to be living as an angel and if he'd get to see you again if he was sent to heaven. I couldn't answer everything – I was already bending the rules – but I tried my best to, well, edge around them. I have never seen a soul seem so happy in purgatory, I really haven't. Though he wasn't at first, as soon as he heard that you were fine, he was perfectly fine himself."

"I can't believe that even in what is a frightening time for most, he was still set on finding out if I was okay," Kyle responded quietly.

"It must have shown that you two were truly amazing friends."

Kyle nodded sadly. "Yeah, we were. We were best friends since we were in kindergarten. That might not seem very long to you though, considering you've been in the afterlife for a while now."

"Even if I have been, I can still see that as a long time for those who are living," said Kenny. "It was centuries ago, of course, but I remember how much friendships were cherished in life, even if they didn't last as long as friendships do here."

"Do you… Do you think that he'll be born again? I'm sorry, I'm putting you on the spot there..."

"It's a perfectly reasonable question," said Kenny, but he sighed and resting his head in his hand. "I can't quite say anything for certain and I don't want to get your hopes up. But I think that Philip was right – he might be reborn, but due to his soul expiring so much sooner that it was supposed to, I don't think it's very likely that if the small fragments of it _do_ manage to live again, it'll return as an animal, at the very most. It was damaged far too much for it to return as a human."

"I-I see..."

"I'm sorry, Kyle, that's probably not what you wanted to hear..."

"Oh no, don't apologise. I'd rather you be honest with me than lie about it," Kyle said truthfully.

Kenny smiled, "Well, that's good then. He was truly an awesome guy."

"Yeah, he was. Thank you Kenny – for speaking to me about this, I mean. I guess I just wanted to talk to just you about this as you were there and everything."

"Nah, no need to thank me! It's understandable."

His grinning face and cheerful tone made a thought come across Kyle's mind, though he hesitated to say it.

"Kenny… Can I ask you something? About yourself, I mean, not about Stan or anything."

"Go for it."

"How exactly did you go from being a demon to an angel of death? I know that all of them were once angels or demons, but you just don't seem like you were ever evil enough to be a demon."

Kenny paused, looking thoughtful. "God, it's been such a long time now, I forget what I was like as a human and demon, sometimes… Well, my soul was pretty hard for them to decide, and they might have made a mistake with me becoming a demon. I wasn't like most of them, but then you have to remember that not all demons are hugely evil or anything. There is good in all of them. I guess I just had a bit more of it in me."

"You seem more like an angel to me than a demon."

The blond laughed, bearing his white teeth. "An angel? Oh wow, I've never been called that! Nah, I'm way too neutral to be an angel. I wouldn't ever become one anyway. A previous ruler of hell had been an angel who went through the whole cycle and became a demon, but it's never happened the other way around. Darkness is just far more tempting and free. It's a lot easier to give into it than want to live a life of good."

"I don't think I'll ever want to do that," said Kyle. "Give into the darkness, I mean. It's so wonderful here in heaven and I feel better than I ever did alive – why would I ever give it up?"

"I can see why Gregory likes you so much – you're probably one of the purest angels I've seen. You might even be a match for Philip," Kenny grinned. He then sighed and stretched his arms and wings. "Ugh, fuck this, I'm getting out of bed."

"Wait, you need to heal properly," said Kyle, being forced to slide off it when Kenny moved his legs around.

"I need to help out Gregory and such," said Kenny. "I'll be fine. Want to come with me?"

Kyle nodded – he was thoroughly enjoying Kenny's company. Both exchanging a smile, the two of them left the room, Kenny cursing under his breath at the pain from his ribs as he did so.

* * *

Still feeling rather shaken after meeting Damien, Philip walked out into central, his hand brushing his hair back of his forehead, giving him the same kind of appearance as Gregory. Philip knew exactly where he was coming from, but he just couldn't brush away the darkness he could sense from Damien. Even now it was like it still lingered, but he knew it was just his imagination.

"How did it go?" said a female voice from Philip's right. He jumped slightly, turning to see Rebecca standing there with Heidi by her side. He presumed that she had waited to see how he would be feeling after.

"Well..." Philip hesitated. Did it exactly go badly? It had certainly not been as bad as he would expect meeting the ruler of hell to be, but then again, he could just couldn't erase Damien's chilling presence and his patronising tone from his mind. "Better than I would expect, but..."

"I understand," she said immediately. "I could feel cold from him being there even from just being outside in the hallway. You get a bit of a presence like that from any demon, but… Well, he's different."

"Though it's the same with us angels, isn't it?" Heidi questioned. "We don't notice it from each other being as we're used to it, but demons sense a warm kind of presence from us and the goodness of our hearts. If Gregory was to be near demons, they would feel the opposite that we do from Satan. So I wouldn't worry about it or anything."

Philip nodded as he processed her words. "You're definitely right. It's just a bit… Well, unnerving."

"I'd say," said Rebecca, shuddering. "It doesn't help that he looks like just any demon either, aside from those huge wings and even brighter eyes. You might not even expect him to be anything other than a regular demon at a glance, it's just how you feel around him that makes it obvious he is different."

Philip nodded in agreement. "Exactly. Anyway, it's best if I go find Kyle – I want to see how he is."

"Oh, he's coming right up here," said Heidi, nodding to her left. Philip turned, surprised – but pleasantly so – to see Kyle indeed trotting up towards them, looking up at Kenny as they both laughed. It was the largest smile Philip had seen on Kyle so far, even after what had happened. "Kenneth McCormick! You should be resting!"

"It seems as though my feet must have slipped, because somehow, I'm now standing here. How strange."

Kyle laughed, his green eyes shining, but Heidi scowled.

"Don't blame me if you make yourself worse."

"In all seriousness though, you know as well as I do that angels of death are the best creatures to cross dimensions with ease and less power. So if anyone is going to help locate that sword, it's going to be me and any other one of my kind willing to help. I can't just sit back and chill, not when all this is going on."

"It is understandable," said Philip. "I'll go with you though – the other angels of death are patrolling purgatory at the moment so I don't want you to be alone whilst you're injured.

"But Kenny said that it takes more power for regular angels to cross between dimensions," Kyle frowned, remembering how exhausted Philip had been just several days prior.

"Don't worry – I'm able to cross dimensions with a companion, no matter what creature they are," Kenny said, placing a reassuring hand onto Kyle's shoulder. "He'll be fine."

Kyle smiled, "That's a relief."

"We'd best get heading over there now to question the guardians there," said Philip. "Can one of you three tell Gregory where we have gone?"

"Of course," Rebecca smiled.

"Thank you."

"Thanks babe," Kenny grinned, reaching his arm out to Philip. "Shall we?"

Philip nodded, placing a hand on his arm. Just before they disappeared, however, Kyle reached out and clutched Kenny's other arm.

"Promise me that you'll both be safe?"

"Of course. I couldn't leave you living without this face, now could I?" Kenny chuckled.

"We'll be perfectly fine," Philip said seriously. "Time moves slower there, so we should be back here fairly quickly. If we don't return in thirty minutes at the most, that is when you should worry and alert Gregory. It is extremely unlikely, but we need to take precautions nonetheless."

Kyle nodded in understanding, slowly releasing his grip on Kenny. He, Rebecca and Heidi watched as the two blonds disappeared in a brilliant flash of a mixed black and white, leaving nothing where they had stood.

* * *

Philip had never been in the room where the Sword was kept hidden. The dimension was very similar to purgatory, though it was much smaller and time didn't creep past quite as slowly. It was very unusual with little known about it, but due to it being harder to access than other dimensions except for, of course, angels of death, it was a very suitable location. The original plan was for the Sword to be kept in heaven, but angels are prone to temptation just as much as demons, so it had been decided to be sealed here, known simply as the 'Sword's Dimension'. It was safest in a dimension most easily accessed by angels of death – due to being neutral, none would have any use for it aside from what it was made for. Guarded in routine by willing angels, demons and angels of death - the latter taking the angel and demon there themselves - it was in very safe hands. Or at least, it had been until the recent event.

However, both Philip and Kenny thought that they had never felt so relieved when they entered the chamber and were greeted with smiles and positive news.

"We were waiting for you to arrive," said an angel of death, named Jerome. He was rather large, was dark-skinned and had a friendly, deep voice. "The sword was returned to us not long ago!"

"It has?" Philip asked, relief washing over him.

"It's returned to its chamber," said Liane, the angel among the three. She was a woman with medium-length brown hair, an average height and spoke with a very sweet voice. To her side stood a demon named Scott Tenorman, suspected to be her son, but only the one who had decided their fates could know for certain. Scott stood a little above average, with what seemed to be a permanently scowling expression, and had rather messy ginger hair – it was similar to Kyle's, though less red and it rested higher than the angel's.

"It's right in there now," Jerome said, gesturing to a towering sealed door behind them. Power seemed to be trying to burst through, but Philip could tell that the door was helping to hold it back. Stretching up to the ceiling in the dark room, it was somehow rather intimidating. What appeared to be a lock was situated in the middle – apparently needing to be opened by magic, it was decorated with an angel, demon and angel of death circling around what seemed to be a carving of Earth. Each side of the door stood two equally long pillars, carved with many intricate details of the same creatures. Philip felt himself feel overwhelmed just by being in its presence, but from how Kenny's expression didn't change when looking at it, Philip could tell that he was used to it by now.

"Well, it _was_ a rumoured legend that the sword would soon return to its place if it is used in a way which it wasn't made for," Kenny hummed thoughtfully. "Perhaps it's true after all."

"At least that is one less issue we now have to deal with," Philip sighed in relief. Now that the Sword was not in the hands of the ones who had committed the crime, they knew that this would stop anyone else being fatally harmed – at least for the time being.

However, though he was currently unaware of this, just because one problem had seemed to be resolved, it didn't mean that more were to come.

* * *

The following day, Gregory made his visit to hell. Though a fair amount of demons just glanced at him before moving along, other demons gave him glares, obviously not very keen on having God in their presence. Of course, none attacked, both because they knew they couldn't and that he was stood next to Damien Thorn.

"I like what you did to the place," Gregory joked, glancing around at the fiery brimstone which lay before him.

"Thank you. I was thinking of putting up a few streamers here and there, maybe some confetti falling down… Ah, Cartman."

"Afternoon, Damien," said Cartman, glancing Gregory up and down. "Yeah, I know who this is. Current God, right? Greg, isn't it?"

"I prefer Gregory, but yes."

"Like with Pip and I, I can see the two of you assisting each other well," said Damien. "As much as some of us..." he looked directly at Craig Tucker standing away from them, who was speaking to another demon but was occasionally glancing over with a disapproving expression. "... May be against this, in order for all of the shit that happens to be sorted, we have to work together. At least the Sword was returned. That's one less thing to deal with."

"Yeah, I get you," Cartman nodded. He hesitated, before reaching out his hand to Gregory. "Well, I guess I'll see you around then, Greg."

"Gregory," the angel corrected, but took the hand all the same. A very fake cough was let out as soon as the contact was made. Holding in a sigh, Gregory turned to Craig, who was now standing next to them. "Whatever is your problem, Craig?"

"That's Tucker to you," Craig scowled. His gaze shifted to Damien, still narrowed. "Pardon me _sir,_ but is it really a good idea to let God, of all people, be here? Sure, he won't try anything being alone, but what if he brings back information about us? How do you know he doesn't want to kill you? You're evil, after all."

"That's not going to happen. I doubt that any angel, God or not, would be stupid enough to attempt murder when they can't bring other angels here to help them. After all, he's here with my permission, just like the permission I have to go to heaven. So I must ask you to stop being so paranoid and instead focus on helping us find the fuckers who decided it would be a good idea to create this mess in the first place."

"Fine," said Craig through gritted teeth. His eyes moved back to Gregory. "But just know that I don't trust you being here and I'll be keeping an eye on you."

"Feel free," Gregory responded, giving Craig a fake grin. The demon glared one last time before turning on his heel and walking away.

"Biggest suspect," Damien murmured to Gregory, a smirk tugging on his lips. "He's trying too hard to hide it… Anyway, I've got some things to attend to."

"As do I," Gregory replied. "I will see you at the meeting, then?"

"Yes. Then I will see Pip, if I don't mind. I'd like to have a word."

"A word?"

"About Craig. You see, he will be in a meeting, and so I can't discuss him to PIp there. So I will want to speak to him after."

"I can always tell him myself."

"I'd prefer to give him the details – we're meant to be working with one another, aren't we?"

"Yes, that is true…" said Gregory, frowning and looking at Damien with suspicion. "But I hope you're not planning anything."

"I can assure you that I am not planning anything."

"I could see it in your eyes when you met him. That is forbidden, Damien. I want to work with you, but I will not allow you to do anything to Philip."

"You're the one being paranoid now, Gregory. I won't be doing anything to him that he'd disapprove of."

"I hope that you're right."

Damien couldn't stop a smirk from breaking out on his face as soon as the angel had left. He hadn't completely lied. It was his goal to see the pure angel writhing underneath him, his face flushed as he begged for release – that was something he hoped, no, _knew_ that Philip would approve of. Damien was certain that he would achieve that. After all, darkness was far too tempting.

His smirk grew. With all that was happening, it was only right to have a little bit of fun to relax. What better way to do that than to finally do what he had wanted to do to an angel for centuries? Yes… This was going to be very fun for him, indeed.

* * *

 **A/N:** In case you couldn't tell, yes, that does mean I'll be raising the rating soon. I keep my stories at T to start with being as you have to change the filters in order to search for a fic rated anything - something that I forget to do myself, sometimes. I did state this at the beginning so hopefully anyone isn't annoying that the following content will not be suitable for younger readers... At all.

Thank you for reading and another thank you to anyone kind enough to review, it is much appreciated.


	6. Intentions

**NOTE:** There is a little sexual content in this chapter, mainly vocal. I _will_ be changing the rating to M either in the next chapter or the one after, but I just want to keep it at T for a little while longer so people are able to find it easier. Please bear this in mind if you usually just read T fanfics - this chapter is definitely not very bad at all though; I just prefer to warn people.

Anyway, though it's a little shorter than usual, I hope you enjoy it!

* * *

 **Afterlife's Council**

 **Chapter Six - Intentions**

* * *

Philip sat down in a seat to Gregory's right. There was a strange feeling in the room, though that was no surprise. This was the first time, after all, that both God and Satan would be attending a meeting among the highest angels and demons.

When Damien's eyes had met Philip's, he smirked. The gesture sent a shiver down his spine. But it wasn't just him who was disturbed by Damien's presence – other angels to their sides were peering at Damien with wariness, too. The demons seemed very alike to this, looking at Gregory with caution. None glared except for Craig Tucker, who was sat on Damien's left, with Eric Cartman on the right side. The others simply glanced between each other and the God sat in front of them.

"As you will know," Gregory started, a couple of hushed whispers halting completely at the sound of his voice. "This is the first time in history that both God and Satan have joined the most upper angels and demons in a meeting. However, Damien and I have decided that us uniting is key to us returning things to normal and eradicate the anxiety which has arisen."

"As well as that, we can easily pass information between us, telling our other companions when, or if, you choose to do so," Damien continued. His voice was much more sophisticated than it had been when Philip had met him – or at least, it was so in a different way. Whilst it had previously been somewhat mocking, even seductive could be used to describe it, his tone now seemed genuine. "Our first course of action has naturally been to ensure the Sword is still in its rightful place. As you will know, it has in fact returned, just like legends have told us so. Straight after this, we have then ensured that the security has increased."

"May I ask a question?" asked Token. Philip could have sworn the boy was timid, but his voice was still clear.

"But of course," said Damien, gesturing for Token to speak with a wave of his pale hand.

"If, even with the increased security, one of the culprits take hold of the sword once again, do you think they will be able to use it?"

"As we have very little confirmed information on the Sword, we can only make assumptions. However, we do believe that the Sword will not allow its power to be used to great extents. Perhaps it could be used a couple of more times before it stops this – we can't be completely sure, but it is likely."

"Due to our uncertainty, however, the raised security has been a must," Gregory added. "So we have discussed the most trustworthy people who have the time to do this for us. Meanwhile, as most of you will be aware, Damien and I will be visiting Heaven and Hell respectively to work with those which are believed to be excellent partners. Angels and demons have their own strengths and opinions, meaning that by working with one another in our own homes, we should find it easier to discover the culprits. Every ounce of help will be useful."

"Will any of us be visiting the other place ourselves?" asked Craig, drumming his fingers on the desk in front of him. He seemed very against the idea.

"It is seeming that way," Gregory answered. "But it will most likely only be those who Damien and I will be working with."

 _'Will be working with?'_ Philip thought to himself, glancing over at the Devil in front of him. Their eyes met briefly, and just the slightest smirk tucked on his lips for barely a second. _'Will I really be expected to go to Hell and stay with_ him?"

"That will only be if we found ourselves working well together, however," said Damien. "The two of us understand that an angel or demon may not feel as though they would be safe visiting the other. It is only something we would go through with if… Well, we got _closer,_ shall I say."

No one else in the room but Philip seemed to sense anything strange from the word 'closer'. Perhaps it was his own mind over-thinking the situation after their meeting, but at the same time, a shudder was being sent down his side every time they made eye contact. This wasn't good. At all.

* * *

"That concludes our meeting. Please may Token Black, Bebe Stevens, Liane Cartman, Leonardo Scotch, Craig Tucker, Scott Tenorman, Carol McCormick and Herbert Garrison remain for an Afterlife's Council meeting. Thank you."

Gregory then smiled and shook the hands of the demons. He placed a hand on Philip's shoulder as he walked by.

"I am going to be in Hell with Eric Cartman for a few hours, whilst Damien will be here with you." He then spoke in a murmur. "If he troubles you at all, or if you need me for anything else, get an angel of death to come to Hell to find me."

"All right," Philip said, not all too fond of the fact that Gregory needed to say this. The God smiled reassuringly before he walked off to find Cartman. Philip saw Damien sauntering towards him. He prevented himself from shuddering when he looked at the vibrant red eyes, instead keeping his ground completely.

"It's nice to see you again, Pip," Damien said. He smirked when Philip frowned at the use of the disliked nickname.

"As it is you," Philip responded through gritted teeth. Damien raised an eyebrow – it was quite clear that it was the complete opposite. But he didn't say anything, instead letting his smirk grow for just a moment before the two transported themselves to Heaven in a flash of blinding white light and a burning blaze.

Several fearful murmurs were exchanged between angels on the street as they stared up at Damien, who was walking casually along next to Philip with his hands in his trouser pockets, as though he walked through here everyday. Philip realised that he really should have held onto Damien to transport them directly to his home, but just the thought of touching Damien made him shudder. Perhaps how Damien would be likely to react rather than actually briefly touching his arm was the worse thing. He knew he had to get over this so he'd actually be able to work.

"So this is my home," Philip said, gesturing to the bungalow in front of them before he opened the door.

"Ah, it's rather small," Damien commented as he stepped inside when Philip gestured him to before himself – which he did both because of manners and also because he didn't want to have his back to Damien.

"Well, only I live here."

"Oh, I know. We have a similar system for the demons in Hell. I like it. It matches your build, don't you think?"

Philip sighed, but didn't bother responding to those words.

"My study is on the door to the left down this corridor."

"Why don't you just lead… Ah." Damien smiled softly, tucking a few strands of black hair behind his ear. "You don't trust me. Not even enough to let me walk behind you."

"And can you blame me?"

Damien chuckled, and shrugged. "Perhaps I can't."

Philip held in a sigh of relief when Damien didn't push the matter further and pushed open the door Philip had indicated.

"I thought it'd be best to do this in here, as I had information of angels and demons who are likely to have the power to break into the Sword's chamber be transported here." He gestured to several files which were lined inside a bookcase. "Plus, this is one of the largest rooms, and the desk will be useful anyway."

"Ah. Shame. I was perhaps hoping to see what your bedroom was like. Saying that, perhaps I could use that desk for something..."

"Don't," Philip said firmly, becoming agitated very quickly. "We're here for business, Damien. You're a ruler. You should behave more respectably than this."

"Yes, you're right. I apologise." He didn't sound very apologetic, but at least his voice sounded much more serious when he spoke again. "Let's get down to it then, shall we? Do you have any suspects of your own?"

"So far, I don't have any for the angels, honestly," Philip admitted. "It's just so hard to think of someone when everyone I know is pure. Naturally, as they are angels."

"I understand that. It has been rather difficult for me also, though that may be hard to understand due to us being so different to you. I have one prime suspect, however; Craig Tucker."

"Craig?" Philip echoed. "Any reason why?"

"He has just always appeared to be a suspicious type and has seemed rather uncooperative in the whole union between Heaven and Hell. I cannot be certain, but I would still like to keep a close eye on him."

Philip nodded, walking over to the bookcase to take down a file on higher-level demons. He flicked through the pages to reach to 'Tucker, Craig' before settling it down on the desk, sliding into his chair as his eyes read over the words. Damien stood next to him, one hand resting on the back of the chair, the other on his hip.

"So we've got some basic information on him here. I thought it could be useful – their personalities, after all, could play a large part." Philip then frowned, his finger pressing down onto a sentence. "'Trust issues'… If he has those, then surely he wouldn't feel safe working with others?"

"I can see Tucker working past those to get what he wants," said Damien, pressing his own finger down to a sentence a little below it. "You see, Tucker is quite a selfish person and was honestly pretty damn rude as a human. He would use people to his advantage."

"But what would he have to gain from this?"

"That's the main question that's been on our minds, hasn't it? For any of them?"

"Yeah, that's true… Maybe it's just to seem intimidating? Or powerful?"

"Perhaps. I was thinking though that maybe, just maybe..." The hand which was resting on the back of the chair brushed a few strands of blond hair away from Philip's ear as he bent down to move his mouth close to it. The hot breath made Philip want to shudder, but he stayed still. "They want a distraction so that he could touch a pretty little angel he's working with. He's not the only one."

Philip couldn't move for several moments, nor could he speak. Implied intentions were one thing; voicing them was another thing entirely. It wasn't until lips pressed against the neck just under his ear that he suddenly found control of himself again and pushed Damien away with one hand, a flush staining his cheeks.

"Stop," he ordered, his voice firm despite the fact that his heart was beating fast once again. "I couldn't do that even if I wanted to."

"You do realise that it's just humans that made up all that bullshit about homosexuality being wrong, right?" Damien said, holding Philip's chin in his fingers to turn his face around. He was smirking again. "There's nothing wrong with two men doing the same acts as a man and a woman."

"I know that. But angels aren't supposed to commit sexual acts with _each other,_ never mind with _Satan._ That's where this is wrong."

"But doesn't the fact that it's wrong just make it so _right_?" Damien questioned, leaning closer, his eyes never glancing away – not even when Philip had to look away himself. The hand which wasn't holding Philip's chin crept its way under his shirt, the long fingers slowly rising up along the skin. Philip inhaled sharply and bit his lip when one brushed against his nipple. This only made Damien's smirk grow further. When he spoke, it was lower and much less soft than previously. "Knowing its wrong makes me fucking you right over this desk just that little bit more exciting, right?"

That's when Philip's mind snapped back to reality. He shoved Damien's hand away from his face and stood up abruptly, glaring at him.

"Who do you think you are?" he demanded furiously. "We're trying to do important work here and you think that it is all right to do this!"

"Oh, my mistake. I got a little sidetracked," Damien responded with a shrug.

"Like Hell you did; you've just been wanting to do this all along, I bet!"

"No pun intended?"

Philip scowled, which caused Damien to laugh.

"Look, I apologise. Us demons are just a little more free than you are. We don't tend to hold back. If you were a demon, chances are that we'd already be having sex by now, considering those blushing cheeks of yours suggested that you enjoyed that more than you care to admit."

"It's anger. And free? Angels are free enough. We follow the same rules."

"To a point. You'll come to see that soon enough. Anyway, yes, I am sorry. Shall we continue? I swear that I won't try anything else. If I do, I'll leave straight away. I promise."

Philip hesitated, but he sighed and nodded. "Fine. But bear in mind that I am only doing this because of Gregory."

"Oh, I know that. Anyway, let's read through some of the notes we have on angels. We need a suspect from there as well, after all – we can't limit possibilities to just demons and angels of death."

Philip nodded again. Damien's promise had been true – he spoke and acted as though nothing had happened previously, not even showing any signs of it. But Philip's mind was elsewhere.

What did he mean, about coming to see that angels aren't free? Of course they were. Sure, his schedule was busy, but he was still no less free than a busy demon would be. Being evil didn't mean that they had more freedom, unlike humans may believe… Or had he thought wrong all this time?

But what was a bigger distraction was how, deep down, he knew that Damien's touch gave him a thrill he had never experienced in his life, as much as he wouldn't want to admit it to himself, never mind to the demon causing him to feel this way. That scared him more than anything else.

* * *

 **A/N:** I'm hoping to update this a little quicker next time, but that isn't likely because of how busy I am. However, if anyone could leave their thoughts in the meantime, that'd be much appreciated! Thank you for reading!


	7. Uncertainties and Theories

**A/N:** Ooh look, I updated!

Thank you for the recent reviews, they're very much appreciated! So much so that I managed to get most of this written quickly in the last few days, around all of the art I've been doing. Kind words are truly a motivation!

I hope you enjoy the chapter!

* * *

 **Afterlife's Council**

 **Chapter Seven -** **Uncertainties and Theories**

* * *

Changes had been occurring slowly. Then one day, it seemed to happen all at once, because the realisation that their lives were at risk was sinking inside them faster than ever.

The Sword had not been taken once again, but this didn't stop the criminals from committing other crimes. An angel, demon and a soul which had been residing in Heaven were missing. Whether they were deceased, held hostage or even part of those working against others, they did not know. They were even still unsure about what was motivating them to disrupt the usually peaceful balance. Were they striving for the same ultimate goal, perhaps to rise above everybody else, or did they each have their own separate intentions, bringing them together to fulfil the wishes of each individual? They were certain about nothing and in the dark about everything. It was a terrifying combination.

New rules were now being set in place, in which no soul could be alone, whether this was an angel, angel of death, demon or someone living in the afterlife. Of course, this meant the souls residing in Heaven and Hell had to be told what was going on, but after one of them had turned out missing, it was only right that they would know. Having knowledge of the situation was also important for their safety and well-being – as much as they were watched over by the creatures living for their survival, they also needed to watch over themselves and each other.

Watching over each other was also something which angels and demons now had to do more than ever, to the extent of having to live in the same home together. For one panicked moment, Philip had a rather disturbing image of having to live with Damien. Why exactly his brain conjured up something so bizarre, he wasn't sure – it was probably due to his increasingly troubled thoughts over him.

"I thought as you are his mentor, it would be best for you to share with Kyle," Gregory said to Philip. "I take it that there are no objections to this?"

"No, definitely not," Philip replied, feeling strangely relieved and also rather foolish over his temporary anxiety. They were working together – it didn't mean they'd be leaving their home to live with the other.

"I'm fine with that," Kyle nodded with a smile. Philip glanced at him briefly, pride for him raising in his chest for what was definitely not the first time. After such a traumatic event regarding his best friend, Kyle was doing wonderfully. Even if he seemed to be pushing through sometimes, he seemed truly focused on helping to deal with what had happened and was managing to still wear a smile while doing so. It was truly an inspirational thing to see.

"Awh, I was hoping that would be me!" Bebe joked, patting Kyle on his shoulder.

"You'll be with Wendy."

"Wendy? Who..." Her words drifted off, a look of surprise forming on her face. "Wait, Wendy Testaburger? Are you sure?"

"Who is she?" asked Kyle.

"My personal assistant," Gregory explained. "Philip would have taken that role, but he wanted to work with souls more than the work she does and is tremendously talented at it. So I decided to give her that role."

"I've never even met her," said Bebe. "So why me?"

"I think you'd both get along, we'll see when she… Ah, here she is."

A figure standing above average was walking over to them, her long legs taking elegant strides across the light paving below her. It was easy to see her beauty from afar, but when she was up close, it became even more apparent – especially when her lips curled into a smile.

"My name is Wendy Testaburger," she said to Bebe, holding out a hand for her to take. "It is a pleasure to finally meet you."

"Y-Yeah, you too," Bebe replied, hesitant and nervous for what must have been the first time in many years. It was clear that she was taken aback by the girl in front of her, but it wasn't difficult to see why. Wendy looked like a twenty-year-old human, with magnificent raven-black hair falling straight down her back, highlighted in an unbelievably beautiful way from the brightness of Heaven. Her features were mature – as was her voice – and she had mysterious violet eyes with long eyelashes. They inspected Bebe, who felt rather self-conscious about her messy blonde hair and less proper posture.

"Gregory has told me many things about you," said Wendy. "He says that you're also a very talented angel – not just over your work, but also how you're able to put people at ease and how you handle things with confidence."

"Oh, I'm not that good!" Bebe laughed, but her cheeks flushed pink with pride at the compliments.

"I'm sure you are," Wendy smiled. She turned to Kyle, reaching out a hand to him, also. "And you're Kyle, right?"

"Yeah, that's me," he said, shaking her hand.

"It's a pleasure," she responded. There was a clear look of sympathy written on her face, but she didn't say anything. Kyle was grateful if anything, for he'd had many angels give him them their pities when he wanted to try and move on. But he could also see a small amount of pain in her eyes – or at least, he thought he may have. They were soon back on Bebe, preventing him from having enough time to inspect them properly.

"I shall give you a tour now if you like, whilst I have a spare moment."

"That sounds good!" Bebe replied. The soothing voice was beginning to calm her nerves over meeting someone at a much higher authority than her, as was the welcoming smile.

"They will make a great pair," said Gregory as the three of them watched the two girls take their leave. He then turned to Philip, his previously positive expression turning more serious. "I believe I have a new suspect, by the way."

"Really? Who is it?"

"Eric Cartman."

That name brought Philip no surprise. "He's always been… Well, a suspicious type. But any specific reason why?"

"He seems very focused. _Too_ focused, like he is trying to prove himself or hide something. I could just be paranoid, but I will be keeping an eye on him to be sure. I also asked Damien to come and speak to us about him, just to see if we can work anything out from that."

"That's fine," Philip responded. Perhaps he would have been happier if Damien was just coming to speak to Gregory, but at least the God had said 'us' rather than 'you'.

"You seem really off about Damien," Kyle commented slowly when the two began to make their way over to what was now both of their home. "I mean, I can kind of see why, but you seem to be worse than anyone."

"It's just..." Philip paused. Just what? A man causing a huge amount of sexual tension which _definitely_ shouldn't have been there? "It's hard to explain."

"I don't mind talking about it if you need to."

"Well, it's not really something you can understand… I can't even understand it myself. Thank you though, Kyle. It means a lot."

The angel smiled – one of both support and obvious worry.

* * *

"Eric Cartman? Well, I can see why you may be suspicious."

Damien was sat in Gregory's chair, with his boots resting on top of the desk in front of him, one leg resting over the other. Gregory had gritted his teeth at this, but stayed silent.

"We have some information on him already," said Philip. "But we thought it would help hearing you speak about him. Plus, we'd like your opinion."

"As you probably already know, Cartman was a foul human when he was alive. I remember it being one of my demons to send him straight to Hell, and I am sure that you would have done the same. He was racist, sexist and downright vile. It was no wonder that he had the qualities of a demon – but also, I had to keep an eye on him after doing so. The world is not black and white. Demons have to be as open-minded as angels, see why the other must also exist. I had to ensure Cartman knew this.

"I can assure you that he has never shown signs of not doing so. He may be vile, but he is also very intelligent and won't let his darkness cloud his judgement. However, I will take your suspicion into account. Has he ever said anything unusual to you, Greg?"

"Gregory. But not particularly. Like I have explained to Philip, it is more of a case of being overeager, like he is trying to prove himself."

"I understand. Well, I shall take your opinion into account. In actual fact… Yes, that could have happened… Keep an eye out on your angels, won't you? It could be possible that he's working with one of them. Perhaps alongside Craig."

"What have you thought of?" Philip asked, rather taken aback by Damien's apparent realisation. The Devil seemed to be a lot more intelligent than he let on- it wasn't as though he acted like he wasn't, it just wasn't often that he mentioned his intelligence.

"I cannot know for certain, but I believe that our theory about singular goals is correct. After all, angels and demons working together wouldn't achieve much else. As for the goals, well, I have already mentioned this briefly to Philip, I believe."

"You even have an idea of that?"

"Possibly. You see, there are so many things restricting us and keeping us apart. We cannot enter each other's home without the other's permission. We are watched if we enter purgatory. What if these people are trying to cause distractions so that they can join?"

"But why would they want to?"

"Families are torn apart. Friends are torn apart. As are lovers. Even if they come from separate lives, their souls still long for each other's – to be together, like they had once before. How can such things happen when we have such strong rules for us to be separated, as though we are animals locked in cages? Some of these animals could be yearning to escape, scratching at their bars – so when we speak in a non-metaphorical sense, they are going against the rules to be with one another."

"I… I have never thought about it that way, I must admit," Gregory said slowly. "But I can see where you are coming from. We have to consider other options, just in case we put all our attention on one and miss something important. But you have made a lot of sense; thank you for your suggestion."

"There is no need to thank me. Remember that we were once human; many of us still have similar desires as to which we had before, strengthened by the containment we live in by being angels and demons. It is not unlikely that there are some not strong enough to fight these desires."

His red eyes met Philip's as he said this. Words seemed to echo inside Philip's ears, ones which had been dragged back to his mind from just the other week:

" _They want a distraction so that he could touch a pretty little angel he's working with. He's not the only one."_

It wasn't difficult at all to know that Damien had said that to flirt with Philip. And yet, did they have a deeper meaning? Could there really be others longing to be with each other, whether it was due to a relationship or simply something sexual? Philip couldn't deny that Damien made a lot of sense with many of his words. Temptations like lust were easy to give into, something which many craved. It was one of the things angels missed out on – perhaps there were some who disliked that, easy enough to be tempted into committing sins with a demon? Maybe it was even the other way around for some?

"Philip? Philip, are you all right?"

He blinked. "I'm sorry, Gregory, I was distracted. What did you say?"

"I said I wanted to gather a small group of angels I trust to give them Damien's ideas. I do not want to tell everyone, not when we could have a culprit being told that we could possibly be onto them."

"Ah, of course. I understand."

"If there is anyone you can trust yourself with this information, please do not hesitate to let me know. Those we trust the most are often the same, after all."

"I will."

"Well, I shall best be going, for I have other matters to attend to," said Damien, swinging his legs off the desk so he could rise to his feet. He folded his arms, staring at Philip straight into the eye. "However, one last thing."

"What is it?" asked Gregory, raising an eyebrow at Damien's stare. Philip could only stay silent, forced into it by the gaze on him.

"These culprits may not be the only ones to give into temptation to gain what they want. It could happen to any of us. Be aware of where your loyalties lie at all times, because you might just end up on your enemy's side before you know it." His eye contact with Philip finally broke, instead landing on Gregory for a brief few seconds. "That applies to both of you. As the Lord of Hell, I am all too familiar with temptation. Please be aware that it could happen to anyone, even yourself or those you least expect."

Neither Gregory nor Philip had the chance to respond before Damien raised his hand, causing him to vanish in a conjured, vibrant flame.

* * *

 **A/N:** I apologise if this chapter seems like a filler - I'm going to be putting in events soon, but I want time to develop the characters and story rather than rush itno things. *sighs at the thought of my old work*

I hope that you enjoyed the chapter, and until next time, whenever that may be!


	8. Rising Anger

**Afterlife's Council**

 **Chapter Eight - Rising Anger**

* * *

 _Hot breath, a thumping heart, burning skin. Passionate hands, overwhelming sensation, words etched with desire, causing a nervous shudder which was mixed with excitement._

 _Time seemed to be moving at a slow pace, as though every moment of lust needed to be cherished. It was not sensual in the slightest, nor did there seem to be romance – simply the heat of bodies pressed against each other was enough to escape from the struggle of reality, which seemed to be the most important thing in this moment. It was freedom – something which he had not experienced in a very long time._

 _Was it something he had yearned for, or was this just the spur of the moment, a fantasy which would fade before long? He couldn't know for sure, he just wanted to live in this moment of passion and freedom forever…_

 _As pleasure surged through him, he gasped – or at least, he thought he may have. Noises were muffled and the scene before him had blurred together, making him realise that yes, this was a dream, but he didn't want it to be. His mind was far too distracted to take in that reality when he didn't want to know of it at all._

 _His eyes closed. He only wanted to feel. He didn't want to see that this wasn't real, that the pleasurable freedom would end before too long._

" _Look at me," said a voice, his ears barely able to pick up the sound but somehow managed to string the three words together. He was reluctant to open them, but the voice controlled him – his eyes slowly opened once more, landing on the figure above him..._

It was red irises which had startled Philip out of his sleep. His heart raced faster than it ever had before and his bare, sweat-covered chest was lowering and rising with each gasping breath. The room spun slightly as he sat up, his hands pressed against the beating of his heart, which was pumping blood just as fast as when he had first woke. He swallowed, struggling to do so as though hands were grasping his neck.

He tried to control his breaths, but failed in doing so. He felt dirty. He felt contaminated. It was clearly a demon who had towered over him, causing him pleasures that no angel should feel, especially not from an evil creature.

 _'It's just been the stress of what has been going on that has messed up my dreams,'_ he tried to convince himself. _'I have more important things to do than worry about something that didn't even happen.'_

When his breathing had calmed down slightly, he shakily got to his feet, feeling as though his legs were carrying a mass much heavier than his petite body and light wings. He was surprised that he didn't fall, but perhaps the hand he had placed on the wall to his side had helped.

 _'But you wish it_ did _happen, don't you?'_ said another voice inside his head. _'Damien was right, wasn't he? Angels aren't as free as they're made out to be. And now you're_ _finally_ _being tempted after so long.'_

The hand that was pressed against the wall clenched into a fist and banged against it. The pain from doing so was satisfying, but his mind was still racing. He didn't know how he'd be able to face Damien, not when he was like this. He knew that the Devil would be able to see right through him, be able to see the desires which had formed in his dreams and was now invading his reality.

"It'll pass," Philip murmured to himself. "Just because I'm tempted, it doesn't mean I have to give into it. I'm an angel – purity is what we do best."

He couldn't believe how he was reacting to merely a dream. If he was this shaken now, how would he cope with seeing Damien again? There was an option to speak to Gregory and ask if he could stay away from Damien from now on, but he didn't know how to put something like this into words. He was sure that he couldn't even if he tried.

Making sure that he closed the door softly as to not wake Kyle across the hall from him, he stepped into the bathroom further down, stripping the rest of his clothing before turning on the shower. He didn't bother to run his hand under it to see if it was warm – cold water, if anything, would be more beneficial.

His fingers ran through his hair and wiped his body, removing the sweat which had stuck to him after his troubled sleep. The now lukewarm water was relaxing, but was not helping his mind one bit. No matter how much he scrubbed at his skin, he still felt like filth. Never in his centuries of being an angel did he feel this way.

After what seemed to be an eternity of simply standing underneath the water, he came to his senses and stepped out of it, waving a hand so that a towel landed into his arms and clothes onto a rack in front of him. His wings dried on their own as he spread them out behind him, before they folded to fit through the gaps in his shirt. He tried to empty his mind through the process which he had been through many times before.

Kyle was exiting his room when Philip, now fully dressed, walked out into the hallway. The other angel smiled.

"Good morning," he greeted. Such a simple phrase helped Philip to be distracted from his thoughts – but apparently not enough, for Kyle's smile had faltered. "Are you okay?" he asked, obviously remembering how Philip had been that previous day.

"I will be," Philip answered, trying to reassure both Kyle and himself. It was working a little – after all, he was stressed, and stress was capable of making a person not act like they did usually. "Just a lot on my plate at the moment."

"I think that's the same with all of us."

Philip hummed in agreement, his ears hearing the words but not quite listening, for his mind was trying to decide how he was going to cope with everything.

* * *

Craig Tucker turned to his side when he felt the presence of what he immediately knew was an angel of death appear before him. It was easy enough to tell – he could sense someone near him, but didn't feel an evil entity, nor did he feel a good one. He turned, his eyes landing on a boy with brown hair, appearing as though he was the same age as Craig, though he stood shorter and his wings – which were white on the bottom, black on the top – stretched out to a much smaller range either side of him.

"Clyde," was Craig's simple greeting. "Have you made any visits to Heaven?"

His friend nodded, "Yeah, but it's been hard to find out anything about their plans. God has been very secretive, only going into detail with those he trusts. It's hard to break through that."

"Well, try to gain his trust more – we need more information than just the basic shit we already know. Have you spoken to Token?"

This time, Clyde shook his head. "No, I haven't had the chance. I've only been in meetings – Kenneth McCormick is the only one I've been able to speak to."

"Of course," Craig scowled, less at his friend, more at the mention of Kenneth. "They trust him more because he found the good in life and moved on from being a demon. Makes me want to throw up. But he's the closest person we can get information out of – there's Philip Pirrup, of course, but I can't access Heaven and you can't get near him."

"Kenneth's been hurt once already," Clyde said slowly. "Plus, if I was discovered to be going against one of my own kind..."

"I'm desperate, Clyde," Craig said. Despite his words, his face was a blank mask. "I need to find out more about what they know, so I can play on that information, let Damien gain my trust through useful advice, then be lead to me entering Heaven after so long. I'll get that information no matter what."

"Kenneth would tell someone what you did, though – and come on, everyone will notice that someone like _him_ is missing."

"I'll make him forget, somehow. Goddamnit, Clyde, I'm a _demon._ I'm sure there's some kind of power which can do that."

"Maybe we should forget about all of this, Craig, and just stay out of it. It's just going to end badly for both of us."

"No. I'm not just going to give up, not when there's been such a big distraction. And you want this as much as I do, Clyde, so why try and stop me?"

The words were so firm and etched in truth that Clyde had nothing to respond. He instead nodded his head and decided to no longer argue.

"I should go before they start to question where I am."

"Yeah, good idea."

Clyde vanished in a brilliant flash of black and white. Craig sighed, contemplating Clyde's words now he was left alone. He shook his head, physically trying to push away doubts. Telling himself to believe in his own words, he walked out of his bungalow and walked across the brimstone floor, flipping off a passing demon as he did so.

 _'The fucking lengths I'm willing to go through to achieve something simple,'_ he thought to himself as he made his way to the grand building in which Damien resided. It didn't take long to see it, even at a distance – it was several floors high, the outside of it completely black, with gigantic windows made of red glass. To enter, you must pass through a large gothic gate, which was as dark as the building and connected to a fence stood around each of it. The floor, unlike a lot of the messy brimstone which laid in front of the houses, was a dark grey paving, which seemed bright compared to the rest of the darkness around him.

 _'Depressing,'_ he thought as he passed through the gate, ignoring the guard's demand for why he was there. She was about to follow him before a figure walked out of the building, frowning at the sight of Craig.

"I saw you passing through," he said, folding his arms. "Why are you here?"

"Just need to see Damien, Tenorman," Craig replied.

"Oh, yeah? Piss off, he's busy. That's _Lord_ Damien to you, anyway."

"Right." He avoided the urge to roll his eyes. "Sure. Can you just let me through, please?"

Scott narrowed his eyes. "Why do you want to see him?"

"To apologise."

"Oh really?"

"Fuck's sake, if you can trust that damn half-brother of yours, I'm pretty sure you can trust me," Craig spat. Scott couldn't deny that statement, not with the mention of Cartman. So he sighed, and reluctantly gestured to the building.

"Fine. I'll take you to him."

"I thought you said he was busy?" Craig questioned as they began to walk down the paving.

"He is," Scott responded through gritted teeth. "We all are. Speaking of which, we have an Afterlife's Council meeting soon, so you better not take your time."

"I won't. I'll be quick."

The rest of the walk was awkwardly silent, though this was probably a lot more comfortable than attempting small talk would be. After scaling a couple of floors, they were stood by Damien's study. Scott hesitated slightly, before he raised his fist and knocked on the black wooden door. They waited, but no one came.

"Maybe he didn't hear it," Craig suggested, raising his own hand to knock, but Scott grabbed his wrist.

"Or maybe he doesn't want company and you will end up pissing him off," he glared.

"Relax, am I really that frightening?" a voice laughed from behind them. Scott seemed startled, but Craig didn't flinch – he turned and attempted to nod curtly at Damien. He was stood with a dark towel resting around his shoulders and a deep red shirt looped over his arm. He titled his head slightly in amusement as he looked down at the two demons in front of him. "Why are you here? Don't you have a meeting to prepare for?"

"I need to speak to you," Craig said.

Damien raised an eyebrow, before he shrugged. "Fine. Come in."

They both entered the study, the door shut in Scott's face. Damien walked over to his desk, leaning against it with one leg resting on the other, his arms folded. "What do you want?"

"To apologise."

If Damien was surprised, he certainly hid it well. "Oh, really?"

"Yes. I've been rude to you regarding this ordeal and I know it was pointless of me to be like that. I want to help out with this."

"What, now you feel like you're in danger? Or is there another reason?" Damien pushed himself off the desk, taking slow footsteps towards Craig, who didn't budge. "Maybe you're trying to squeeze information out of me, huh? Is that it?"

Panic momentarily took over, but he calmed himself. "Not at all. I saw that my actions were wrong – you can blame my hatred for Cartman, I suppose."

"I think you're lying to me, Tucker," Damien said quietly. He bent down slightly, his face now just inches away from Craig. "And you know that I don't like liars. What are your true intentions?"

"I don't have any."

"Are you one of the culprits? Or is this something else?"

"I'm not, and there isn't anything else."

Craig gasped for breath when his throat was suddenly clutched by a large hand and pressure was applied against it. As a demon, he saw hundreds of pairs of red eyes everyday, but the brightness of Damien's as they flickered with rage was utterly terrifying.

"Do you realise who you are fucking messing with right now?" he hissed, sounding anything but human. "You are nothing compared to me, Tucker. I have unbelievable power over you and intelligence which you just don't seem to understand. You can't trick me. You can't overpower me. And if I have to cause you suffering like I have never inflicted before to get the truth out of you, I will."

Craig was pushed back into a wall. If he was a human, he would be dead over the lack of oxygen, but he was instead simply in agony, wishing for it to end – but despite him being anything but weak, he couldn't pull Damien's hand away, not when the Lord was this demonic. His feet were now lifted off the floor, the pressure building to a level which Craig couldn't handle.

"Maybe I could kill you after," he pondered aloud. "I could live without scum like you."

"You – Can't –" Craig rasped.

"Try me," Damien said. He smirked, before releasing his grip on Craig. The boy fell to the floor, gasping and retching as he clutched at his throat. "I've broken enough rules in the time I have existed in the afterlife, Craig. Do you think I care for them now?"

"I bet you're one of them yourself," Craig accused in between coughs. "How else would you be so comfortable over the thought of ending a life?"

"Perhaps I am, perhaps I am not. Either way, you'll never find out, because you'll get nothing out of me. I recommend you go scurrying off to your meeting now, Tucker, before I go through with my threats. I'll find you later to have a nice _chat._ "

Now Craig couldn't conceal the fear on his face. Staring warily at Damien, he shakily got to his feet, backing up to the door. He turned when he reached it, but almost stumbled when Damien spoke again.

"But I won't tell you when. I think I'll enjoy the thought of you just waiting for the inevitable, fearing when it will happen, not knowing what I'll do. That'd be fun, don't you think?"

Craig could still hear Damien's laughter when he was all the way down the corridor, never regretting a decision of his more. Anxiety filled inside him to a point which he couldn't bear.

But who could he talk to? Clyde? No, Craig knew that it was too risky to speak to him again and he would feel like he had been betrayed, which Craig knew now was understandable. Stress sure made people do rash things.

He wasn't able to be comforted, either, by how Damien's laughter had ceased as soon as Craig hurried away from the sound in fear. The smirk had vanished. His hands were resting on his desk, his upper body leaning forward, causing his raven hair fall over his eyes.

"When did I become so ruthless?" he pondered aloud. He didn't feel guilty. He grew excited over the thought of hurting someone else, of manipulating them, of making them bend to his will. How did this happen? In the past, he had been a kind, caring individual. Now he was nothing but evil.

The smirk returned, and he started chuckling to himself. "Ah yes, when 'good' decided to stand on me and crush me into the ground."

He threw on his shirt, lingering whilst buttoning it up, for his fingers had began to shake with anger.

"I'll show them just how fucking pure they can be," he muttered to himself. "I'll prove what I can do. I'll show them all that no one messes with me."

Fully aware that he should calm himself before leaving but not caring in the slightest about doing so, he vanished in his usual flame, ready to visit the place which he detested the most.

* * *

 **A/N:**... I feel like some of you might just be waiting for the pairings to come in and for the rating to be raised xD Don't worry, that WILL happen, I just really want to focus on developing characters' personalities and backgrounds, like I hopefully started to do here.

Thank you for reading, reviews are always appreciated!


	9. Slowly Giving In

**A/N:** This has probably been my quickest update in a while xD It's getting towards events though so I've had a lot of motivation!

I hope you enjoy it!

* * *

 **Chapter Nine**

 **Slowly Giving In**

* * *

A few angels jumped back in both surprise and fear when the Lord of Hell appeared before them, rage still written on his face. He ignored their stares as he took his long strides through central to the grand building in front of him. The gold was blinding. It ached his eyes every time they laid on it.

No angel dared to stop him as he swung open the doors. Token, who was sorting through some sheets in his hands, jumped slightly, but due to his high amount of respect for his superior, didn't stand aside. Despite standing a little over average, he had to jog to keep up with Damien, his voice steady despite how, like any angel, the Devil's presence unnerved him.

"Mr Thorn," he said. "Gregory did not say anything about you visiting him toda-"

"It's urgent, so get out of my face." These words were emphasised by one large black wing stretching out at Token, who had to jump back slightly to avoid being hit.

"Please, he did not give you access so you could abuse it."

Impatient, Damien growled as he slowed to a stop, causing Token to stumble slightly in his attempts to also slow down. Damien clutched at the material of Token's white shirt to pull him closer. It didn't hurt him, but staring into the demonic red eyes in front of him and being so close to an evil entity would have distracted him from any pain regardless. Token gulped and dropped the papers which had still been in his hand, the hairs on his skin standing on end in fear.

"I don't have time for any shit from you damn creatures," Damien hissed. "Not when-"

" _DAMIEN!_ Release him _now!_ "

The Lord rolled his eyes, but his hand let go of Token's shirt. The angel, now wanting to avoid looking at Damien altogether, bent down to pick up the pieces of paper, smiling at Gregory gratefully but not quite being able to speak due to his nerves. Gregory understood this and narrowed his eyes at Damien.

"Why are you here? I do not go to Hell without notifying you first. I thought that was our agreement."

"It was, except if something important happened."

Gregory tilted his head. "Oh? And something did?"

"Why else would I allow myself to be in this fucking place?" Damien shot a glare at Token, who bowed his head when they made eye contact. Gregory walked over to place a hand on his shoulder.

"It's okay, you can go. Thank you."

Token nodded, not hesitating to hurry away. Gregory stayed silent until the angel had turned around the corner, then turned back to Damien. Though usually calm, his anger from when he had previously shouted still lingered. He was not attempting to hide it.

"I do not appreciate you attacking one of my closest associates, Damien."

"Attacking? I only grabbed his shirt, I wouldn't call it _attacking_. That word would be saved for what I did to Tucker."

"Craig Tucker? Why would you attack your own kind?"

"That little fucker decided to come and not-so-subtly get information out of me about our suspects and investigations. He made out like he wanted to apologise and wanted to help, but I could see right through those lies. As you know, I hate lying. _Especially_ to me."

"How can you know for sure?"

"Dear, dear Greg. You should be aware of how well I can manipulate others, yes? To be a manipulator, you have to be able to see when others are trying to deceive you. He wants something out of me, but he's not going to get it. Whether he's a culprit or just taking advantage of the situation, I don't know. But that fucker is going to get what he deserves."

"Don't do anything drastic," Gregory said quickly, panic rising. "Not only do we not end the life of one of us unless truly necessary, quite simply, we need him. We need to find out his intentions and see if he _is_ one of the original culprits. Don't do something which will just make everything worse."

"Oh yeah, I'd save killing him until _after_ I got information out of him."

"Damien-"

"What's one less demon going to do, huh? It's not like the life of one mattered in the past, did it?"

"What are you talking about?"

"What do you mean, what..."

 _'Of course. He's been God for such a long time and fits the role so well that I forgot he was just an angel around the time I became Satan. He wouldn't have a clue, would he?'_

"It doesn't matter. Fine, I'll try to listen to you. We just need to do something with this whole Craig issue."

"We will confront Craig after his meeting. I'll go get Philip-"

"I will, you go get anyone you feel could help, just in case Tucker puts up a fight."

Gregory hesitated, before he nodded. "All right. I'll see you in Purgatory soon."

The God barely got a response before Damien turned on the heel of his boot and walked away, his wings taking up either side of the brightly lit hallway.

* * *

Philip was currently calming down his student, whose nerves were rising due to it being mere minutes before he had to leave for an Afterlife's Council meeting. Though he had been excellent at deciding fates despite his ordeal with Stan, the thought of being in a meeting to determine the fate of a soul which an angel had trouble with. It didn't help that there was pressure on each of the angels and demons to have the meeting quickly – after all, though the security of souls had naturally been increased dramatically with the dangers which posed inside Purgatory, they were still at risk and needed to move on as soon as possible.

"You will be fine," Philip reassured him with, reaching to place his hands on each of Kyle's shoulders. "You will be with others who are very good at this and you will be able to flow with them naturally. Bebe will also be there – she'll support you."

He wanted to be there himself, of course. The thought of leaving his student to go to a meeting without his mentor was one which he hated. But after what Damien had spoken to him and Gregory about, Philip was now going through profiles of dozens – no, _hundreds_ – of angels, reading on their histories and trying to find anyone who could be seen as suspicious. So far, he had zero.

Kyle nodded, seemingly comforted by those words. "Thank you. To be honest, it's being with so many demons that I'm worried about. What if they mock my attempts and everything?"

"They won't do that, trust me. Everyone feels nervous for their first meeting and like us, demons know they have to finish the meeting as fast as possible. It will be fine."

Kyle nodded his head once more. "Okay. Thank you, Philip."

"This is what I'm here for, right? Go on, you'll be fine. I'll be thinking of you."

He smiled, giving him one last 'thank you' before he disappeared in a flash of white light. Philip's smile faded after that, his hand rubbing his head. He was certain his exhaustion was creeping back, along with a migraine. It wasn't exactly what he wanted.

Just as he walked back to his study to settle himself down among the many files, there was a knock on the front door. Even if the door to his study hadn't been open, he would have heard that bang regardless.

"Coming!" he called, walking out of the room and forcing a smile back on his face as he opened the door. It was quick to falter. "Oh, Damien… What are you doing here?"

"I need to talk to you," the Devil replied, barging past Philip into his home. The angel raised an eyebrow at him entering uninvited, but Damien was clearly angry and Philip was, admittedly, too timid to say anything. Instead, he closed the door and turned round to face Damien.

"What is it?"

"Craig fucking Tucker decided it would be a clever idea to lie to me, pretending he wanted to help when I could tell he was just after information."

"Why would he be after information?"

"I don't know, but that little fuck is getting on my last nerve. No one lies to me. _No one."_

"Right, first of all, calm down," Philip said warily. "Have you spoken to Gregory about this?"

"Obviously. I came to tell you, as he's going to gather a few people to apprehend Tucker to question him. We can't do that right now as he's one of the two in charge of an Afterlife's Council meeting."

"Yes, I'm aware. Kyle is attending that one. But how can you know for sure he really didn't want to help?"

"For fuck's sake. I've explained this to him and I will explain it to you, too. I can tell when people lie. He did just that. Just _look at me_ , do you think I'd be this pissed if there was a chance he wasn't actually lying?"

There was no response. Philip only gulped. His mind had decided to wander back to his dream after those three words. Damien took note of his hesitation and raised one black eyebrow.

"What's gotten into you all of a sudden?"

"Nothing," Philip said a little too quickly.

"Oh, really?"

Damien walked over, placing a hand on the wall behind Philip. Though his back and wings were against the wall, Philip had full control over his movements and could have easily stepped around Damien – but he didn't. The piercing gaze which was fixed right on his bright blue eyes was freezing him to the spot.

"What is it about me that is making you so damn nervous, Pip?"

Philip didn't say anything, not even to correct the use of Damien's nickname for him. He knew exactly why. It was because he was beginning to see temptation in Damien's previous words to him. It was because that in his dream, even if he was committing such dreadful sins with a demon, it was the most free he had felt for not just his life as an angel, but as a human, too.

"I think we both know why," Damien said, leaning down so his face was closer to Philip's. "But you just don't want to admit it, don't you?"

Of course he didn't. How could he say it aloud, when he didn't even want to admit it to himself mentally?

But when it came to Damien, it felt as though he didn't matter whether or not he was saying something or merely thinking. Those haunting eyes seemed as though they were able to see right through Philip's skull, read his thoughts as easily as he would be able to hear words. Observation which was this incredible was also equally as terrifying.

"I understand if you can't respond." Damien's mouth was right next to Philip's ear now, hot breath against his neck once again. This time, he wasn't uncomfortable, not even when one of Damien's legs raised slightly in between Philip's. With one hand still on the wall, the other trailed slowly along Philip's jawline. Damien smirked when his finger landed on Philip's lips. "After all, I can make you respond in other ways that mere conversation."

He turned his head round so his pale lips pressed against Philip's neck. The angel breathed in deeply, determined not to react, not even when Damien's mouth crept further down to his sensitive collarbone. His finger was removed from Philip's lips as he did so, wrapping around the angel's neck – not with much pressure, but enough to show dominance.

It was when Damien then bit down that Philip let out a gasp – but even so, he didn't push Damien away. The Devil was obviously expecting him to, for he stopped, edging away from Philip's neck, his smirk returning when he saw flushed cheeks.

"Why aren't you stopping me?"

"Why are you even asking?" Philip said, shocking himself. He hadn't expected to be able to speak.

Damien tilted his head. "Hm?"

"Though I don't wish to insult myself, you're obviously a lot stronger than I am and you're the ruler of Hell. Surely you could have just done whatever you liked, yet you stopped."

There was silence for a few seconds. "Well, I suppose you are right. Trust me Philip, if I had it my way, I'd be fucking you against this wall right now until you begged for mercy. But where's the fun in that? I'd just be taking. If you consent to me, then it shows you can't resist. It shows that you're giving yourself to me. Don't you think that sounds more appealing than taking you by force?"

"I guess so."

"So let me ask you again – why aren't you stopping me?"

He couldn't answer that because he could barely think of an answer himself. It was pleasurable, so when he erased all thoughts and separated himself from reality, he wouldn't want it to stop. But he knew that he couldn't do any of this. That alone should have made him stop Damien, yet he didn't. How far could the demon had gone if he hadn't stopped himself to ask that question?

"Well?"

Philip breathed in, about to say something, _anything_ to ease his tension, but he was interrupted by frantic knocking on his door. He ducked under Damien's arm, who reluctantly stood up straight, and walked over to the door, turning up the collar of his shirt to hide the bite mark inflicted on the skin.

But when he opened the door to see Gregory stood there, his face etched with more stress than ever, Philip knew that the last thing his Lord would notice would be a bite mark. Not only was Gregory stood there, but there was also Token, Bebe and Wendy behind him, each of whom were also unsettled.

"What's happened?" he asked, his eyes landing on Bebe. "I thought you were at a meeting with Kyle?"

"I was, it ended early-"

"Craig Tucker and Clyde Donovan took Kyle, Philip," said Gregory frantically. "They grabbed him and vanished. We don't have a clue where they are."

* * *

 **A/N:** To the guests who read this story - if you do not search for it by its name or by my username and instead just go through the fandom's stories, please remember to switch the filter options so it shows **all** ratings, not just K-T. I am most likely going to raise the rating in the next chapter and I don't want you to miss out.

Thank you to those who have left feedback, I appreciate it greatly! I hope you enjoyed this chapter.


	10. Duty

**A/N:** As I won't be adding a note on the end, I thought I'd just say now that I hope you are enjoying the story and thank you for reading! Any feedback will be appreciated as it is slightly disappointing when I don't receive any, especially with how I push through my bad health to write.

Also, I haven't put up the rating just for sexual content - it is also for violence, though it shouldn't ever be that bad. I just thought I should warn you.

Hopefully you like this one!

* * *

 **Afterlife's Council**

 **Chapter 10 - Duty**

* * *

Kyle sat down in a seat to Bebe's right, his palms sweaty with nerves. Luckily, there weren't as many angels and demons as he thought there would be – still, he found himself shuddering at the evil entities across the room. Craig was in the centre of them, directly across from Bebe. The blonde girl smiled and squeezed Kyle's hand before she focused on Craig.

Kyle did the same, frowning in puzzlement when he did so. Craig seemed very uneasy. Though Kyle had never met him, he had heard plenty about him – he rarely showed emotion aside from anger and was never afraid to speak his mind. It was hard to fit that kind of description on the demon sat opposite him.

"This meeting is to determine the fate of the soul belonging to Trey Barbrady," he started. Though his voice had momentarily shook when he began, his voice quickly settled. His eyes scanned the notes, something which Kyle again found strange – all members of a meeting were supposed to read over the notes beforehand. Of course, he could have been reminding himself, but the information seemed to be new to him. "Ah, a police officer extremely incompetent at his job and so caused the deaths of himself and others. Now, I'm all in favour of just sending this stupid fuck to Hell. Who's with me?"

For a moment, Kyle thought Craig was simply making the wrong joke at the wrong time, but then others reacted.

"What is wrong with you, Craig?" Bebe asked, looking deeply annoyed. "We are supposed to study the death of a soul beforehand and then bring our opinions here! We cannot just come to a conclusion right now."

"Right right, fine. Let's just make it quick."

"Well," said Scott Tenorman from further down the table, looking at Craig with a curious expression before speaking. "I do agree in a way, but we have to take the man's intentions into consideration, not just the incidents in his life."

"I couldn't agree more," Bebe said. "Though the man's mistakes caused deaths for him and his team, that was not his intention. He may have made many mistakes in his work, but his intentions were good and he wanted to help the lives of others."

"So you're just going to send him to Heaven for something he didn't even manage to do?" Craig sighed.

"That does seem a little too forgiving," said Liane, her voice, as usual, the calmest in the room. She was sat to Kyle's left, who had to admire her ability to remain calm with Craig's difficult attitude. "However, I do believe that Hell might be a little too harsh, also."

"Reincarnation, then?" Scott questioned.

"I think that might be the best idea," Kyle piped up. All eyes fell on him, obviously not expecting him to speak so soon. He swallowed, slightly nervous now he was being watched, but also determined to show that he was ready for this despite not being an angel for a long period of time. "Because of how much accidental evil he did in his life, I feel like Heaven is too much of a reward for it, but because he didn't want to cause evil, suffering in hell seems unfair. I understand that he wasn't very young and so should have learnt from his mistakes, however, another life might be a good chance for the soul to redeem itself. If it doesn't, then it can be sent to Hell at that time if need be."

"I think that's the best idea," Bebe commented, smiling and looking fairly proud.

"Yeah, I see your point. We'll go for that, then. All in favour?"

Apparently, this was also not Craig's usual attitude, for everyone hesitated, even though all hands shortly raised. Bebe was frowning again, obviously confused at Craig's lack of arguing. The man usually had a lot to say in meetings and didn't mind the meeting lasting a little longer if it meant his voice was heard.

"Right, good. Glad that didn't take too long. Until next time."

Once they had left their seats, the angels and demons began to shake the hands of one another. Craig was in a rush to do so, but when he held onto Kyle's hand, he lingered.

"You've probably heard about me and know that I'm not usually like this," he said. "Apologies for that, I have a lot on my mind. Nice to meet you."

"Yeah, you too," Kyle smiled, but when he saw the look of concern on Bebe's face, he started to grow wary.

"Can I talk to you?"

"Uh, sure, if you wish..."

Bebe was still watching as Craig guided Kyle to the side of the room, away from the last couple of people standing there, who were also watching them curiously.

"I heard that you've gotten close to Kenneth McCormick."

"Kenny? I wouldn't exactly say we're close, I've just spoken to him a few times."

"But you've only met him out of angels of death? And he's willingly gone to spoke to you?"

"Yeah, that's right…"

Craig nodded. His eyes shifted either side of him briefly.

"Why are you asking?"

"I need a favour off him. You see, I-"

He was cut off from a flash of black and white to the side of him – before Kyle could even look at the face of the angel of death who had arrived, hands grabbed either one of his arms. The three vanished as quickly as one had arrived.

" _KYLE!"_ Bebe had screamed, but despite her watchful eye on the pair, she had barely made it halfway to them before they had gone.

* * *

"How did this even happen?" Philip asked as he and Damien hurried along with the others down the white paving, curious eyes watching them as they went past, but none interfering due to their panicked expressions.

"Craig was speaking to him, then before I could do anything, Clyde appeared and they both took him," Bebe said. "If only I had stayed closer and kept a better eye on them, he-"

"Please don't blame yourself," Wendy interrupted, her voice soft. "The only ones who are to blame are those two for what they did. None of this is your fault."

"We must find Jerome and ask him to assist us," said Gregory. "We cannot travel between dimensions like angels of death can, and he's currently in-"

His fast pace halted when there was a flash of black and white in front of him, bringing the others to a stop at the same time – Gregory had quickly positioned himself in a fighting stance, but there was no need to.

"What's this I've been hearing about Kyle being taken?"asked the frantic voice of Kenny McCormick.

"Exactly that – it was Craig and Clyde, we were going to find an angel of death to assist us."

"They haven't been found yet in Heaven, Hell or Purgatory?"

"No, we're-"

As sudden as he had appeared, Kenny vanished, leaving the group momentarily confused before Damien spoke.

"Ah, of course. If they haven't been found they are likely to be on Earth."

"On Earth?" Philip echoed with wide eyes. "But we can't-"

"Go there? I know. But blondie there seems to be doing that for us."

"Angels don't belong there," Gregory frowned. "They must be out of their minds. Kyle won't last long there."

"But that means Kenny can sense his presence, right?" Bebe asked, close to tears over the worry for her friend. "He would be able to find him!"

"Yes. Right now, unless another one of us can travel there ourselves with an angel of death. We just have to put all of our faith in him for the time being."

"First there was the incident with Stan, now there's this," Philip said quietly. "He doesn't deserve all of this. No one does."

* * *

Kyle pulled away from the hands grabbing onto him, but stumbled as he did so. He wasn't used to the sensation of travelling between realms. His head spinning, he tried to steady his feet, realising they were standing on grass. They were inside a forest, the sun almost completely set in the distance, the moon and stars ready to emerge completely from behind the clouds.

"Are… Are we..."

"Yes, we're on Earth," was Craig's reply. He was making no attempt to grab at Kyle again.

"But why did you take me here?"

"So others can't find us. Or at least, don't find us yet."

Kyle was trying to make sense of the situation, but it felt as though he was having every ounce of his energy drained from him rapidly. Craig and Clyde seemed to notice this straight away.

"Angels and demons can't last here like humans can. It drains them of their energy quickly, leaving them weak and vulnerable. After a while, the only thing left is their soul."

"Then how… How are you..."

"I'm using my own power to maintain his energy levels," said Clyde. "It'll last for a good hour, at least."

"So you can get out of here as soon as possible, you wouldn't mind answering some questions, would you?" Craig asked, placing a hand on Kyle's shoulder. The angel knocked it away quickly. Despite his dizziness, he tried to throw a punch at Craig's head, but it was caught in the palm of his hand.

"Nice try, Broflovski. But I'm afraid you just don't have the body for this."

Craig shoved his knee into Kyle's stomach to emphasise his words, before dragging him over to one of the many trees around them. Kyle's arms were roughly pulled behind it, set in place with ropes bound around his wrists.

"Now, tell me what you know about this case. Who are their suspects?"

Kyle shook his head slowly. Though he hadn't been informed of everything, he knew this information. He just knew that the possible consequences of giving it away would have a lot more impact than him being harmed.

"Come on, you're best buds with one of the best angels of death around, as well as one of the top angels. You're telling me you don't know?"

"I'm not… I'm not telling you anything."

"Oh, so you're not denying that you know something? Well, at least you're somewhat honest. But look at the predicament you're in, Broflovski – is this really the time to be playing the hero?"

Kyle gasped when a hand grabbed his red hair, tugging the strands carelessly with his fingers.

"Tell me what you know."

"I've just said that I'm not telling you anything."

He winced at the nails digging into his scalp, but it didn't make his ideals change – not even when Craig's other hand clenched into a fist and smashed into the side of Kyle's face. It swung to the side, a bead of blood dripping from Kyle's lip.

"Tell me!"

Another hit – this time, it was another knee to his stomach, causing Kyle to cough. He knew the hits weren't going to do him any good in his state, with the weakness of being on Earth slowly taking over his body. Craig seemed to know this too, for his voice was becoming desperate.

"Come on, you little shit. _COME ON!"_

"K-Ki… Ki..."

"What? Are you trying to say a name?"

"Kiss my ass."

Craig's movements froze for a second before he once again grabbed onto Kyle's hair, this time to slam it against the bark behind it, not once, but several times.

"Craig, be careful!"

"Don't you dare speak to me like that, you fucking piece of shit!" Craig shouted, but he listened to Clyde and stopped, his hand lingering in Kyle's hair as he leant in closer. "Just one name. Come on, give me just one suspect that they have."

"Why..." Kyle started, his voice slow as he tried to force his eyes open. They stung from his weakness and from the tears forming in his eyes, caused by the pain which was piercing through his skull. "W-Why do you want to know?"

"I don't have time for details," said Craig. Kyle was surprised at how quiet his voice had become. "But you _will_ tell me!"

Kyle shook his head. Such a simple gesture was enough for Craig to know that the angel wasn't going to speak. He wasn't going to gain information – at least, not from him.

"Fine," Craig hissed. "I get it. How about I beat you to a pulp, then, and get someone else to do the confessing for you?"

Kyle only had the chance to widen his eyes in response before they shut tight again – punches were being thrown to his body faster than he could count. The back of his knees were kicked, his ribs smashed into when he leant forward, the ropes digging painfully into his wrists – then it stopped.

"You know about the magic we can do, right?" Craig asked, tilting his head. He reached his right hand to the side, and though his vision was mainly a blur, he could make out a knife which had formed from shadows. "Though we have nothing like the Sword of Vita, we have our own weapons to keep our own kind under control, as well as torture souls. Full of darkness, the tip promising suffering and sorrow."

The blade ran down the side of Kyle's cheek. He shuddered – the skin grew cold and numb. It was as though he felt negative emotion radiating from the metal. And when it was suddenly sliced against his skin, cutting it open in one perfectly clean line, he screamed. The cut itself was only a small sting, it was the pain which shot through his head from it and the sudden unbearable despair that washed through his body which he could not handle. Was this what evil souls had to deal with in Hell?

"That's a bit loud there," said Craig quietly. His hand buried into his pocket and pulled out a strip of cloth, which he roughly shoved into Kyle's mouth before tying it behind his head. "There, now no one will overhear, see?"

Another slash, this time, across his neck. Kyle's eyes rolled into the back of his head, biting down onto the material in his mouth. A scream built inside his chest, begging to be released. He had never experienced something so agonisingly painful. His eyes were tightly closed, tears pouring out of them as he waiting for another attack.

But it never came.

"Craig! An angel of death, it's in between dimen-"

Someone threw Craig away from Kyle and onto the forest floor. Kyle was just able to lift his head to see a tall, blond figure standing over Craig, their blond hair and two-toned wings blowing in the evening's breeze.

"K-Kenny?" Kyle said weakly. Kenny turned and rushed over to Kyle, immediately ripping the gag away from his face. Kyle started coughing, his head falling back down, but it was held up by Kenny.

"No, don't close your eyes. Look at me."

It was a struggle, but Kyle managed to fix his gaze onto Kenny's unusual blue and grey eyes. Suddenly, his body started to feel less heavy, his energy slowly returning despite the huge amount of pain inflicted on his body. His vision became somewhat clearer, allowing Kenny's face to become more than just a blur. Even though he still couldn't see completely clearly, the worry and anger was obvious.

"There. I'm sharing my energy with you. You'll be okay." Kenny then turned to Craig, who was now standing, glaring at Kenny. "Tucker," he growled. "What the fuck do you think you're doing?"

"I need information. And if that angel there isn't going to give it to me, then you are. It's two against one, McCormick. We can beat you and then finish off him. So if I were you, I would answer my questions."

Kenny laughed. "Oh really? You think you can take on me?" he questioned, his voice low and threatening. Kyle had never heard anything like it from him. "A minor angel of death and a pathetic demon? Ha, that's a good one."

He held out his left hand in front of him. A gigantic scythe formed from a mixture of black and white smoke, which he swung round before resting it against his shoulder, standing casually. "The Grim Reaper versus a wannabe Satan."

Craig stood forward, but was stopped by Clyde. Seconds later, he was holding his own scythe, but it was much less impressive than Kenny's. The blond tilted his head.

"Awe, you're going to beat me with that little baby?"

Clyde didn't answer – he shot forward, aiming for Kenny's neck, but the latter was quick to block. The slashes of the weapons against each other echoed into the silent scene, the two men ducking and turning as they attempting to harm each other. It was clear to see who had the most skill, for not even a minute later, Kenny had Clyde pinned to the ground, the handle of his weapon pressed against his throat.

"Say uncle," Kenny joked, before his expression grew more serious. "I'll let you leave alive if you-"

"Leave this guy alone?"

Kenny swore under his breath, realising he hadn't untied Kyle – the blade of Craig's knife was pressed against Kyle's neck.

"I will ask you one more time. Tell me what you know."

"Don't, Kenny!" Kyle begged, lifting his head when the knife pressed slightly harder. Kenny looked frantically at them both, his mouth opening as though he was going to say something –

Then all four turned their heads to the side at the large snap of a twig on the floor, followed by a young, feminine gasp. A little girl stood behind one of the trees, her face written with a huge amount of shock – now fear as she was stared at by the four magnificent creatures.

"I-I..." she squeaked, stepping backwards a little more, stumbling slightly over her own feet. For some reason, Craig had breathed in deeply and was no longer pressing his weapon against Kyle's neck.

"Who's going to do it?" Kenny asked Clyde underneath him. Clyde swallowed, looking away. "I knew it. You're even a coward with our duties."

"Duties?" Kyle asked. "Kenny, what do you-"

"Humans must not ever see us whilst they are alive," Craig murmured, facing the floor. Kyle couldn't see his face, due to the raven hair falling over it.

"Then what-"

"I'm sorry, this is probably scaring you," said Kenny, glancing at his scythe. He stepped away from Clyde and towards the little girl. "But I'm afraid that I have to use it."

"F-For what?" she asked, her whole body shaking. She stepped backwards again, only this time, she fell over a branch, her eyes fixed in horror at the huge weapon in Kenny's hand.

"Humans must be put to death when they see us. That is a rule which cannot be broken."

Kyle was stunned, unable to comprehend those words. "W-What? _NO!_ She's just a little girl! You two can't agree with this?"

Craig stayed silent, his gaze still on the grass below him. Clyde was now pushing himself to his feet and was brushing the dirt off his trousers, his face expressionless.

"If an angel of death kills a human with their scythe, the soul is stored inside, ready for reincarnation. The process is much more complicated, otherwise," said Kenny. He crouched down, his right hand held against the girl's face. His fingers wiped her tears. "It has to be done."

"N-No, I won't tell anyone," she moaned, shaking her head frantically. "Please sir, please… I was just looking for my dog, I-I don't want to die-"

"It's okay," Kenny reassured her softly. "You won't feel a thing. It will be completely painless this way, I promise."

" _KENNY, DON'T!"_

"P-Please no, don't-"

"I'm sorry."

In one swift motion, Kenny leant back and slit the girl's throat with the scythe, blood spurting out of it. As the weapon glowed, her immediately lifeless body fell to the floor, leaving nothing but silence in the forest. Kyle couldn't move, couldn't speak – all he could do was fix his gaze on the deceased child, her life taken far too prematurely.

Kenny rose to his feet silently, his own face without expression, tantamount to Clyde's. As he was walking away, there was a whimper. A small white terrier had scampered over fallen leaves and branches, his nose pressing against the little girl, licking the hand which would never touch him again.


	11. Reasons

**Afterlife's Council**

 **Chapter 11 - Reasons**

* * *

The sensation of pain had completely vanished from Kyle's mind. It didn't matter that blood was dripping down his throat and that his body was beaten and bruised. Nothing else mattered aside from the lifeless body of a girl he didn't even know, yet felt loss for as though she was his own family.

Kenny was now walking over to where Kyle stood to untie the ropes binding his wrists together. The sudden rush of blood circulating through his hands was painful, but he didn't wince as he turned round to face Kenny, rubbing his wrists. He had so many words to say but his larynx seemed to have lost its ability to function, preventing any of them from being heard.

The silence was broken by footsteps. Kyle turned quickly, panic rising, but he relaxed when he saw that it wasn't a human. It was Gregory, accompanied by Jerome.

"Kyle, you're safe," said the God with relief, but he looked guilty at the sight of Kyle's injuries. He surprised Kyle by suddenly conjuring a golden spear in his hand, directing the deadly edge so that it landed at the base of Craig's neck, making him finally lift his head so he wasn't facing the ground. "Jerome, seize Clyde."

The large man did so. Clyde wasn't resisting – he was instead staring at Craig. Everyone followed his gaze, surprised to see what was causing his fixation. Craig's cheeks were damp with tears.

"What's gotten into you? Why are you..."

Gregory's words trailed off when he finally noticed the body on the floor a few metres away. He breathed in deeply. "A human."

"She came across us," Kenny explained, his voice monotone. "I had to do what was necessary."

"Of course. With your scythe, yes?"

"Naturally. I'll reincarnate her once I have returned to Purgatory."

"I shall deal with the body," said Gregory. He took his long strides over to her, hesitating briefly before he hovered a hand over her. She was bathed in a wonderful bright light, as though she was a source of sunlight in the now dark night, before her body disappeared. The blood which had seeped into the fallen leaves underneath where she had lain had also gone without a trace. The only evidence that the girl had died there was the whimpering dog, which Gregory watched for a moment before turning back around to the others. "It's done. All that is left to do is let her soul move on."

"That's all?" demanded Kyle, finally finding his voice. He didn't care that this was a duty. He didn't care that he was speaking rudely to the Lord of Heaven. He couldn't care less about any of that. "What about that poor creature right there? What about her family, her friends, the fact that she died before she even had a chance to live properly?"

"Kyle..." Kenny started, but he didn't have the chance to say more.

"And you! How could you kill someone so young without a second thought? We have magic, don't we? Why couldn't we have just used that to change her memories? Did she really have to die?"

"Kyle!" Gregory exclaimed, not quite shouting, but his voice was definitely louder than usual. "Calm down. This rule has been in place for longer than you can imagine. Kenny was only doing what he had to do, fulfilling his duties as an incredibly devoted and understanding angel of death. Do not blame him for this."

"But why? When we have magic, why must-"

"Yes, you're right. But unless it is an extreme circumstance, we can no longer use magic to alter memories. A long time ago, memory-altering magic was used to an incredibly great extent, one which was reckless and used up the power of the current God of that time. Since then, it's been avoided. We couldn't use that for this because there was a rule in place to solve the issue, and that is an angel of death to restart the life cycle of the soul. You already know by now, Kyle, that death is never the end. So don't see this as a murder. It is simply something which had to be done."

Kyle nodded slowly, trying to hold back his tears and surprising himself by doing so. They weren't purely out of sadness for the girl and those close to her who will question her disappearance – it was anger over such a flawed system. The ways they maintained order seemed perfect in the first explanation he was given. But now he had experienced such a devastating scene, he was no longer sure of how they lived. He wanted to scream his protests, bellow his reasons as to why it was so wrong, but he bit his tongue. He had already taken a chance by speaking so rudely to Gregory. He had to attempt to understand why the system worked this cruel way.

"We're going to take you both for questioning," Gregory said, glancing between Craig and Clyde with narrowed eyes. "And resistance is futile. There will be heavy consequences for both of you."

Clyde was nodding, Craig had merely not reacted. He was no longer crying and his face had been wiped clear of tears, but the evidence that he had cried was clear.

"Jerome, you can take Craig. We'll be going to Purgatory." Gregory took Clyde from Jerome with a little force. "As for you, you will be my source of transportation. I will not stand for any attempts to go elsewhere. Kenny, take Kyle to Heaven. He needs to be healed immediately."

Kenny held out an arm for Kyle to take, but the angel's eyes narrowed. Trying to not look hurt by such a simple gesture, Kenny shrugged and placed a hand on Kyle's shoulder, before the three pairs finally vanished from the place that they should have never been in to start with.

* * *

Craig and Clyde were sat in one of the rooms in Purgatory, its use purely for the questioning of demons, angels or angels of death. They were both practically thrown into a chair, their wrists bound to the arms of it by golden chains, sealing their magic. Gregory had waited to be joined by Damien and Philip. The latter wasn't needed, but after seeing the state of his pupil, he was furious.

"I am not here for lies or avoidance of questions," Gregory started, his voice unusually cold. It was clear that he had grown very fond of Kyle – the attack on him had left Gregory with a short temper. "If you can justify any of your actions, you will be spared of execution. However, both of you have committed terrible crimes which resulted in the involvement of a human. Not only that, but one of you tried to lie to a Lord, which is a crime in itself."

Craig swallowed, avoiding the glare from Damien which was fixed on him.

"Such a shame," said the Devil, tilting his head slightly. "There was so much potential in the beginning. But time after time again, you've ruined that."

"There may still be potential yet, Damien," said Philip, though for a brief moment, he hoped there wouldn't be. He hoped that there was no good reason, that the two would receive the punishment they deserved for harming Kyle and visiting Earth. But he had no time to dwell and feel guilt over such dark thoughts.

"From what Kyle was able to tell me before he slept, he said that the reason you took him was because you required information on our suspects and where we have gone with our pursuit of the original criminals," Gregory stated. "If you're apparently not one of them, why would you care so much?"

The two looked at each other, perhaps silently urging one of them to speak. Neither said a word.

"Tick tock," said Damien. "The longer you take, the closer you are to a death sentence committed by yours truly."

"Damien, please. Well? Do you not have anything to say?"

"Of course we have something to say, you fool!" Craig spat. Clyde blinked, obviously not expecting his companion to blurt out an insult at God.

"Then what is it?"

"We're trying to take advantage of the situation for our own personal gain. Isn't that obvious?"

"But how will it help you?"

"Well, we… We needed..."

"Just spit it out," Damien sighed, his patience growing thinner by the second.

"It's just, we wanted-"

"We wanted to unite with two of our old friends," Clyde finished for him. Craig lowered his head as though he was ashamed.

"Unite with friends?" Philip questioned, widening his eyes. From the lengths that the two had went through, he was not expecting that as an answer.

"One is an angel, one is a soul living in Heaven," Craig said quietly. "Clyde can see Token, but I can't. Only Token can see Tweek. See how it works? The four of us can't be together. So I wanted to know who started all of this, see if we could work with them to force you to reunite us. I'm too evil to be an angel of death and Token is the opposite. Even then, we still wouldn't have Tweek. We just wanted the four of us to be together again, like we had been a couple of lifetimes ago."

"But how would this have achieved any of that?" Damien demanded. He didn't seem as sympathetic as the two angels beside him, but at the same time, he did not seem to be feeling pride over how his suspicion had been right. There _were_ people trying to unite with friends. He had been right on the mark and seemed to be anything but surprised.

"If we had united with those who had started a rebellion, or whatever they hope to achieve, then we thought we could force rules to be changed, that we could be united."

"So bribery?"

Craig nodded, "It was the only way we could think of."

"See how fucked up the system makes some of us?" Damien laughed humourlessly. Neither Gregory nor Philip knew if he was trying to support Craig and Clyde, or if he was trying to hint at something else.

"No one can blame anyone else for their actions than themselves," Gregory said calmly. "They still broke rules, caused chaos when we are in the midst of it already. It's unforgivable."

"Oh, I am well aware. Which is why I am fine with still going through with execution."

" _No!"_ Philip cried out quickly. Embarrassed when all eyes fell on him, he cleared his throat and attempted to compose himself. "What I mean to say is that I believe their reasons justify their actions, even if it's just a little bit. I believe they should just be locked away rather than face death. It seems far too harsh."

"Philip, after all they've done, they-"

Gregory stopped when Damien raised a hand.

"No no, maybe he has a point. If it means so much to you, then yes, we can proceed with that plan. But I have one condition." He didn't receive a verbal response, but just the expression on Philip's face told him he was listening, and so he continued. "If they do anything like this again or try to go against me, I will kill them with my own hands."

"That's without question," Philip said, narrowing his eyes slightly at the guilty friends. But, as much as he tried to after what happened to his pupil and the innocent human girl, he couldn't bring himself to hate them. To be torn away from those you loved must have been terrible. It had made sense when Damien had suggested it, but to actually hear someone take such drastic measures to reunite friends was what hurt his heart.

Of course, they could have lied to save their own skins. But the look of shame on Craig's face and the pain which had been obvious in both of their eyes were not lies. They were truths. Not only were they truths, they were also realisations that hit Philip.

Damien was right – the system was, in his words, fucked up. It caused them pain and stress as they lived by rules which had been made thousands of years ago. Perhaps it had always been this way – it had just taken him a long time to see it.

* * *

Kenny paced back and forth outside of the room where Kyle was currently being treated. The angel probably would have wanted him to leave, but once they had arrived in Heaven, the pain had suddenly hit Kyle, causing him to stumble against Kenny, unable to stable himself on two feet. He was then taken by the angels nearby, leaving Kenny standing on his own. He had waited outside of the room whilst Kyle was being questioned and even when he fell into unconsciousness whilst he was treated, Kenny couldn't bring himself to leave Heaven. He felt partly to blame for what happened, wishing he had arrived sooner. It was nonsense, but his anxiety told him otherwise.

It felt like he had been waiting a lifetime before Leopold came out of the room, looking up at Kenny with a sympathetic smile.

"He'll be waking up shortly. They're just healing the remaining bruises."

A sigh escaped Kenny's lips. "Thank you. Was it serious? Will he be fine?"

Leopold hesitated. "Well, it could have been a lot more serious. But he will be completely fine, I can reassure you of that. He has a couple of broken ribs, but for us, that is easy to fix and they will be completely healed before long. A few others were cracked but that is even simpler. Because of the knife, he had to have a pharyngorraphy-"

"Come again?"

"Sorry, basically a suture of the throat. Kenny, you've been around long enough to understand Latin and terminology."

"Dude, that shit goes over my head. Latin, anyway? I'm updated with the times, you know."

Leopold chuckled. "Of course. Anyway, we had to do that because the wound was rather deep. But the main effects of that knife was to bring the victim utter despair and hopelessness."

"Yeah, I know all about it. Used to torture souls and all that. God, using that on an angel? That bastard must be crazy."

"Leopold, he's waking up now," said a female healer, poking her head round the archway. "The bruises are already fading."

"Great work," Leopold smiled, gesturing for Kenny to come in. He knew that Kyle may not have wanted the pressure of seeing the angel of death so soon, but at the same time, it would most likely benefit him if he could understand more about the reasons behind Kenny's actions. "Can you see properly, Kyle?"

"Yeah," the angel mumbled, blinking slowly as they adjusted to the light. "Yeah, I'm fine."

"I'm glad to hear it. We'll be right outside if you need us."

Kyle focused his eyes properly, in obvious confusion about why they would leave. That's when they landed on Kenny and narrowed slightly. Even with the negative body language, the healers took their leave and closed the door after them. Now that there were only two people in the room, Kyle found himself wanting to look at anyone else but Kenny, though found it hard to do so with no one else to fix his gaze on. So when he spoke, his voice was automatically defensive.

"Why have you come to see me?"

"I wanted to see how you're doing after the attack."

"That's not everything though, is it?"

Kenny hesitated. "No, it's not. I wanted to explain to you properly about what happened. But first, I wanted to see if you're still in pain."

"It could be worse," Kyle responded truthfully. "It hurts a lot, but their potions and medicine helped. The aftermath is worse."

Though he had no experience of the pain himself, he knew what Kyle meant by this. The rush of negative emotions brought by the knife of a demon was overwhelming, its effects lasting for days, weeks even. This alongside Kyle's disagreement over the execution of the child were the obvious reasons as to why Kyle's expression and voice were so cold.

"I hope that you make a fast recovery."

"As do I. So, let's see if I can see humane reasoning behind what you did."

"It wasn't humane at all," Kenny said quietly. "I know that. No child should have to be murdered for any reason at all. It was my duty though, Kyle. I didn't have a choice."

"No choice, my ass! There were other ways around it!"

"Like what? You already know about the memory alteration, Kyle. That can only be used for emergencies."

"So the life of a little girl doesn't class as an emergency?"

"I wish it did, Kyle, I honestly do! But we have strict rules in maintaining the balance, you know that."

"Are you sure?"

"What?"

"Are you sure you actually wish for that? It seemed to be that you didn't care at all about killing her. You did it without expression, without hesitation."

"You honestly think that I didn't care about killing her?"

"That's what it seemed like!"

"For fuck's sake Kyle, what kind of monster do you think I am? I'm not heartless!"

"Then how did you manage it so easily?"

"Because it's the job I've gotten used to! You'll have to make sacrifices as an angel, too. It's what we have to do, with the knowledge of what we're doing for the world as our reward."

"I shouldn't have become an angel. Not after all of this. I didn't realise how wrong it all is. I don't know if I can handle all these duties and inhumane rules to follow."

"You don't mean that, it's just what the knife did to you."

Even before he said those words, Kenny knew it was a lie. The knife brought on negative emotions, sure, but it did not create them. It played on what was already inside the person. Kyle's words may have been exaggerated and spoken because of the knife's wounds, but there was truth behind them. Kenny could see exactly why.

And from the way Kyle was shaking his head, he knew this too.

"Fine, don't listen to me." Kenny walked away from the bed, his hand hovering above the door handle. "I will not apologise for something that I had no control over. You're putting the blame on the wrong person, Kyle. I hope you realise that soon."

The angel of death slammed the door after himself, ignoring the concerned words from the healers near him as he disappeared, his face cast away from them so that none noticed the single tear trickling from one eye.

* * *

 **A/N:** Just a couple of points I would appreciate being read:

Firstly, I apologise for the lack of Damien/Philip in the last couple of chapters, I'm just really basing this fanfic around the plot rather than a pairing. They WILL make more of an appearance, I can assure you!

Secondly, I have now finished college aside from one exam, so I'm going to try to write more often! I will need to start studying Japanese again and also will be more focused on art, however, I will still be blessed with a little more free time.

Thirdly, though I know that this can get annoying, I would appreciate any feedback. Remember that it is all that writers on here get in return, and I will admit that the decreased amount is disappointing. This of course doesn't apply to my wonderful friend Jess, who has been leaving amazing feedback.

Regardless of that, thank you for reading, and I hope you enjoyed the chapter!


	12. Treading on Darkness

**A/N:** Thank you for the couple of reviews on my last chapter, it is very much appreciated!

Please note that there is some much heavier sexual content than previously at the end of this chapter. I'm pretty sure that if you're still around, you won't really care, but I thought I should warn you as this fanfic is _definitely_ not for younger readers.

That smut warning aside, I hope you enjoy the chapter!

* * *

 **Afterlife's Council**

 **Chapter 12 - Treading on Darkness**

* * *

Craig sat silently in his cell, staring down at the cold, concrete floor beneath his feet. Resting on his lap were his hands, the wrists of which were bound by golden cuffs. It was clear that the intention of the bindings were not to stop him from being able to use his hands, for the matching chain connecting them was rather long. No, their sole purpose was to prevent him from using magic to escape from this dark cell. Not like he would have tried to, anyway. He wouldn't have done so even with the angel of death in a conjoined cell to his, bound by the same type of chains.

"Why didn't you tell them, Craig?" they asked suddenly, the unexpected voice startling Craig slightly. He didn't raise his head when he replied.

"Tell them what?" were his words, even though he knew exactly what Clyde was asking.

"About Ruby."

"It wouldn't have made a difference. We still went to Earth, Clyde. Why would the fact that the girl who found us was clearly a reincarnation of my sister matter in the slightest?"

"To show that you never intended for something like that to happen. That you knew it was a mistake to go to a place you were familiar with, because it resulted in her death. It would show that you weren't thinking straight."

"I was thinking perfectly straight, though. I was desperate but I knew exactly what I was doing. I just didn't think over the consequences enough. What are the odds of a reincarnated version of her living in the same place as all those years ago? They were in my favour completely, and yet..."

His voice broke slightly. He swallowed, forcing returning tears back. Crying was not his thing, and yet he had already done so previously. Clyde was probably looking at him with pity, too, causing his eyes to remain fixed on the floor. He didn't want pity. It was his own fault for going to Earth in the first place.

"She'll be born again though, Craig," said Clyde in an effort to comfort his friend. "She's probably already been conceived once again. Just nine months. That's nothing."

"That doesn't change anything. I still watched her die, Clyde. I watched an innocent girl resembling my sister have her throat slit in an instant. Her being born again doesn't stop how that will haunt me for the rest of my existence."

He finally moved his eyes as he held his head back against the stone wall behind him, feeling somewhat soothed by the cold surface.

"It's all so fucked up. We only wanted to be reunited, yet look where we are now. God knows how long we'll be stuck here for."

"He literally does," said Clyde. His posture straightened when he saw that his words had succeeded in finally curling Craig's lips into a smile. He even chuckled slightly, something which was very rare for Clyde to hear nowadays.

There was one person who was not smiling, however – Philip Pirrup stood silently around the corner to the cells, his ears barely able to pick up the sound. He didn't know what to think of this.

Craig had been so desperate to get what he and Clyde wanted that he was willing to go to a place which held memories for him, potentially risking his little sister's life? Knowing this information made his crime seem more understandable. It was still completely wrong, but it showed how much he was willing to fight to reach what he wanted. Or at least, _had_ been willing. Now he was stuck inside a cell with no escape, his hopes and dreams crushed into a thousand pieces. Even though Craig was a bad person as a whole, this showed that even he had feelings.

It was this which made Philip realise that after all that happened, he agreed with Damien more than Gregory's. And that was terrifying.

* * *

Now back in Heaven, Philip was trying to erase his thoughts as he made his way through the streets; the infirmary was his destination. The erasing, unsurprisingly, was unsuccessful.

He could feel his malaise worsening. His head was pounding once again, his body exhausted. It was as though his unwelcome negativity was also making him realise his physical problems, too, perhaps even contributing to them. He was losing sleep again, trying his best to dig deep enough into the profiles of all the angels in Heaven to determine a suspect. He was ill, he knew he was. But he had more important things on his mind – right now, he had to push aside his worries about the truth in Damien's words and instead focus on his injured pupil.

Philip was glad to see that Kyle had awakened, but something was off. His whole body was completely stiff, his arms folded as he stared out of the window. His expression was one of anger, which Philip had yet to see on his face. Was this because of Kenny?

The harsh expression softened when Kyle turned his head and spotted Philip, and yet, he did not smile.

"Hey."

"How are you feeling now?" Philip asked, walking over. Kyle shrugged.

"I'm not really feeling much pain anymore. It's just the rest that's a bother."

Philip nodded in understanding. He had never experienced it himself, but he had long ago heard the consequences of a demon's knife. Kyle was probably seeing the absolute worst in Kenny right now because of it. Philip wanted to keep the conversation away from this to try and ease Kyle away from his negative emotions, but he didn't have the chance.

"Do you agree with what Kenny did?"

Philip hesitated. He didn't know himself. He knew that Kenny had to have fulfilled his duties, but the cost seemed too high, especially since he had heard the pain in the demon whose emotions were usually as monotone has his voice.

And so, he decided that honesty would be best in his answer.

"I don't agree with the action and how this was the only solution to the problem the four of you faced. However, this doesn't mean I'm angry at Kenny. I don't see this as his fault in the slightest – it's what he has been taught and has known for longer than you can imagine. So if the blame goes to anyone, it's the system, as well as Craig and Clyde being the reason behind it happening."

There was silence for a few moments as Kyle thought over his words. Apparently, it was Philip who needed to have spoken to him all along, for his voice seemed a lot less brutal when he spoke.

"I… I can see your point. You probably make more sense than I do right now, I just… All these emotions..."

"It's understandable," Philip responded quietly. "You're bound to feel like this after the weapon which was used on you. You'll recover though, I promise."

"But it's all built on truth, Philip. How on Earth am I supposed to be an angel if I have all this hate deep down?"

Philip couldn't form words. What could he possibly say to this? There was a hint of pleading in Kyle's voice, as though he was desperate to be told he was normal, that they all did feel pain and anger despite being pure.

Though that was the truth, Philip realised. Not only had he seen times where Gregory had shown obvious rage, there was himself. He had thought about the execution of others, now found himself completely against the system and was giving in to the lust he felt for the touch of one controlling him. If anyone here was the one who was messed up, it was him. Kyle was just… Normal.

"We all have negativity inside us, Kyle," Philip started after his long pause. "I'm not just saying this to help comfort you. We were all human once, and those emotions we had back then still live inside us. We can't be positive every hour of every day, especially with everything that has been going on. There is nothing wrong with you, Kyle, and even now, I still see you as one of the purest angels I've laid eyes on. Perhaps even more so than me."

"No one beats you," Kyle said, finally smiling. "But… Thank you, really. I needed to hear that."

"I'm glad to hear it," Philip said, returning the smile, but he found himself struggling to do so. Purer than Kyle? Not anymore, not with all of the thoughts running through his head.

Kyle noticed this. "Philip, you're looking ill. You're looking like you did when I first started, except this time, it's worse…

"I'll be fine. It's just the stress."

Kyle looked unsure, his head nodding in the direction of the floor. "A couple of your feathers have fallen out. I think you need help with how you're feeling."

Philip followed his gaze – he was right. A couple of pure white feathers lay on the floor beside his feet. Had more fallen out on the way here?

But he couldn't receive help with this. The only route he found himself needing – or at least, wishing – to take was one which made him finally give in to some of the conflicting desires in his mind. It was bound to have awful consequences, but was he no longer caring? There were far too many other sins committed than lust. He felt disgusted at the thought, but at the same time, he was finding it hard to take control of his thoughts. All his uncertainties, all of his newly found disagreement was causing him to no longer be bound by the chains which were his restraint from freedom.

"Philip?" Kyle said when he received no answer. His voice was almost like a plead, as though he was worried that he was slowly losing the angel which he had adored since their first meeting.

"I'll be fine, really," Philip replied. "I was just stressed before all of this, so I guess it's piling on top of me. I'll work for less hours tonight, I promise."

Kyle nodded. "Please do. I'm worried about you."

He was worried for himself. He felt pathetic over this – look at what Kyle went through, yet he still remained more in control than Philip. The latter had always been a pushover in his life as a human, letting his emotions control him more than anything. The lust he was feeling over Damien seemed familiar to his old life, which is why it may had been returning. Perhaps Kyle had been a very strong person in his own time as a human, unlike Philip, allowing him to be in control of himself more in dark times.

But when Philip was exiting the room, he briefly looked back at Kyle, who was glaring down at his clenched hands, the previous anger partly returning to his green eyes. Perhaps, like himself, Kyle just hid his emotions from everyone else and had just as many problems bottled up inside.

* * *

"You look exhausted."

With a confusing mixture of emotions inside him, Philip turned at the sound of the male voice behind him, his hand hovering over his door handle. Surprisingly enough, the statement had not sounded patronising in the slightest. Both his voice and his expression were completely normal.

"I'm more tired mentally than physically," Philip replied honestly. Though his body ached and had too little energy, it was his mind which was the most affected. He opened his door, leaving it open for the Devil behind him to decide whether to just return home or to follow Philip inside. Damien chose the latter, closing the door behind him.

"What's up?"

"Everything is just so… Well, tiring. I was stressed before, but now I've just..." He stopped. "Wait, I don't even know why I'm talking about this to you. Why are you asking?"

Damien shrugged. "We're working together, right? And I can't have someone I'm working with not be at their best, 'cause we'd never get anything done. So come on, let's sort this out. I'm guessing you've finally seen sense in what I've been saying all along?"

Philip was silent for a moment. How much Damien was able to see through people was still able to astonish him.

"I need to sit down," he started with, heading towards his lounge. He sat down on the cream sofa facing a light brown coffee table, watching as Damien did so, as well. He looked at Philip, obviously waiting for an answer. "Yes, I am. I don't know what to do because of that. I mean, what kind of angel questions things as much as I do? We're just meant to continue with our lives, playing the role that we chose to play. We shouldn't doubt the system so much and want to rebel against it."

"You're wrong," Damien stated simply. "Okay, you're not supposed to. But you aren't the first angel to question it. Even though this is the afterlife, presented as the place where you can live freely happy, you had more freedom as a human. So why would you think no other angel is like you? Hell, it's insane _not_ to feel like you do. Look at Kyle – is he feeling the same way?"

Yes. Kyle didn't mention everything that was on his mind; Philip was sure of that much. But from how much he disagreed with the girl's death, surely he disagreed with almost as many things as Philip, even with the little time he had spent in Heaven?

"How do you understand angels so well?" Philip asked quietly. He had never heard such correct and justified logic before in his life, yet it was from the exact opposite of not just an angel, but God himself.

"I've always been able to picture myself in the position of another well. Plus, the rulers of Heaven and Hell know about how the other lives. I was able to string together what I know to imagine the stress and restriction you live here with."

Philip was silent for a moment. He was still surprised at how much of a genuine conversation he was having with Damien. He couldn't confess this to Gregory, Kyle, Bebe, countless other angels… Yet he could confess this to the person who he had originally thought he would forever despise?

"How much more freedom do demons have than angels?" Philip then found himself asking. "If we all live to serve the balance, how is it different for you?"

"Too many reasons to count." Damien leaned back on the couch, resting his arms behind his head. "There's lots of small reasons which build up into one large one. Angels are supposed to act like the most dignified and polite human, with perfect manners, respect and even stance. Demons can act how they want as long as they don't go against me and disrupt the balance in any way. Whether they act normal or rude is up to them, and most go for the first because they actually have the option to do so. We also don't have things like curfews or anything along those lines – if you fuck yourself up and then mess up work, you suffer the consequences. Simple. Honestly, I think angels are treated like schoolchildren with how many rules you have.

"I think one of the biggest problems angels have is lust. Of course, those who experience no sexual attraction are fine. But that is only a small percentage. Whether you have a bond with another angel or simply find them attractive, anything lustful is forbidden. As romance is allowed, it can be hard for those who are in love to hold back, even though it's completely natural and they shouldn't have to be so restricted. Demons are more than welcome to give in to lust – the only rule we have in place is that we cannot have intercourse with an angel. Angels of death are fine."

"I don't understand _why,_ " Philip said. "I understand about manners, of course. But why can't we have more control over what we do? What is so bad about lust if it's supposed to be natural?"

"A long time ago, a demon and an angel were caught in Purgatory." Damien shifted so he was facing Philip. "It happens more often than you think; demons and angels having sex, I mean. But these were the only two who got caught. That's when angels were banned completely, because of how the angel made the first move."

"I never knew… Why was I never told?"

"I'm the only one around who knows of that." He didn't expand on his answer, but instead tilted his head. "I feel like there is something else which is bothering you, anyway."

 _'No, don't bring that up, not whilst my mind is a mess over this…'_

"And I have a feeling it has something to do with what I did last time I was in your home."

"It's not..." Philip's words trailed off as he realised there was no point in lying. "Okay, it does."

"I thought so."

"I dreamt about you the other night." The words were escaping his mouth before he could stop them. "At first, I thought it could've been any demon, but then I realised it was your voice. I've felt sick with myself ever since."

"Why would you feel sick with yourself for something beyond your control?"

"Because I am an angel, Damien! I shouldn't be like this. I feel contaminated, like I've committed sins when I myself haven't done anything. I can't deal with being this dirty when everything else is going on!"

Damien was silent for a few moments. "It is really causing you this amount of stress? Something as simple as lust?"

"Yes, it is. I know that might seem pathetic to you."

"No, it doesn't. I understand perfectly." Damien rose up from the sofa, stretching his wings out. "I do not want to leave mental damage on one of Gregory's favourite angels. I will leave you alone until the next time we work together. Until then."

"No, that's not what I want you to do!" Philip said quickly, racing over to Damien and grabbing onto his shirt in desperation. He didn't want that kind of response. From someone who he had thought was nothing but evil, understanding words just made his confusion worse, especially with how he hadn't been like this before. He was a pushover far too much. Though it was hard for him to admit, he wanted Damien to continue to convince him to give into lust like he had previously because he could have consented easily. But now he was the one stopping from Damien from leaving. He had no idea what to say, how to act. He wasn't sure of anything anymore.

"Then what _do_ you want, Pip?" Damien demanded, apparently agitated. His eyes were glowing brighter than previously. "Do you realise how much it is taking for me to hold back? Fucking Hell, make up your goddamn mind. Either carry on being how you are, all conflicted and unsure of what to do, or just let yourself go and free your mind by doing what you want. No one would find out, anyway. So make your choice."

Philip stared at the creases in Damien's shirt caused by his clenched hands. His thoughts and choices whirled around his mind before he slowly loosened his grip. Mentally nodding to himself, he allowed his hands to release Damien's shirt completely. He dropped down onto his knees before grabbing onto the black leather belt wrapped around the Devil's hips. Damien only spoke when it was unbuckled and Philip was undoing the button of his trousers.

"What's this sudden burst of confidence?"

"I choose the latter." The zip on the trousers was pulled down, revealing deep red underwear. "I'm sick of being controlled by things I have no choice about. I need to escape that."

Damien was surprised, but he kept his face blank as his boxers were pulled down. "There's no going back after this, Pip," he said in a low voice. "You do realise this, right? This is a life-changing choice for you. I won't be able to control myself after this."

"The only person here that you have to control is me."

With those words, Philip slowly stroked his hands against Damien's member before running his tongue over the tip. Damien's hand clutched Philip's hair immediately.

"Don't you dare fucking tease," he ordered in a threatening voice. Philip nodded, allowing the full length to enter his mouth. With experience that Damien was not expecting in the slightest, Philip steadily began to rhythmically move his head forwards and backwards. Damien let out a groan as Philip slowly massaged his testicles with his hands, his mouth slowly picking up the pace. Apparently, pain equalled pleasure, for when Damien's hands grasped Philip's hair even tighter, Philip moved his head back with the tug of his hair, breathing in a large gulp of air as he gasped. The sight of his head raised, his mouth open as a his cheeks flushed a deep shade of pink turned Damien on completely.

"Did I say you could stop?" he hissed after a moment of admiring Philip's face, before he thrust himself back inside the angel's mouth. He gagged slightly, the vibration sending a rush of pleasure through Damien, but he managed to regain his previous pace. Damien smirked – with a mouth like this, it was obvious that this wasn't his first time.

"It's a shame that you aren't receiving anything back for your efforts yet," he said softly. Philip opened his eyes to glance up at him, watching as he raised his spare hand into the air. The gesture caused shadows to appear around them. Philip briefly questioned what they were before he felt them. They were creeping inside his clothes, brushing against his nipples, hips and backside. Philip tried to let out a moan, but the erection gagged him as Damien's hand in his hair fixed him in place.

The shadows behind him crept their way to his entrance, stroking against it teasingly. Philip eyes were squeezed shut as his body squirmed. He released his hands from Damien's genitals as he reached for his own, but they were quickly forced behind his back, the wrists bound together by the firm grip of the shadows.

"My my, were you going to going to try to give yourself release?" Damien asked gently, lightly brushing his index finger on his spare hand down the side of Philip's face. "You were the one who advanced on _me_ , yet you are this ready to pleasure yourself?"

He allowed part of the shadows to brush against Philip's erection, but only just. It only made Philip squirm more. Damien chuckled, "How hopeless you are against me, Pip. It really is irresistible."

With those words, Philip suddenly felt one of the shadows enter him slowly as though it was a finger. He managed to maintain his mouth's rhythm, but as it quickened its pace, he thought he couldn't last much longer. This was confirmed when Damien bucked his hips and a shadow had wrapped itself around Philip's member. He came inside his underwear, but given the circumstances, this didn't embarrass him in the slightest.

The sight of this finally brought Damien to his own climax. He managed to pull away from Philip's mouth, causing him to ejaculate partly inside of it and also on Philip's face. That's exactly what he wanted to see; Philip's faced flushed brilliantly, Damien's cum marking Philip as his own as it dripped down his face and lips.

"Swallow," Damien ordered, smirking when Philip did so immediately. The shadows now vanished away, Damien crouched down in front of Philip, wiping the substance away from his mouth. "I never realised you would shave so much experience."

Philip didn't answer, but Damien didn't expect one – it wasn't a question, after all. Averting his gaze from Philip's eyes to his lips, Damien edged his face closer, but stopped just centimetres away as his eyes landed on one of Philip's wings.

It took a few moments for Philip to open his eyes and realise that Damien had halted.

"What is it? Why are you..."

He followed Damien's eyes. A wave of panic washed over him. He could have sworn he saw a flash of black where he shouldn't have.

He rushed to his feet, almost stumbling over to the mirror above the lounge's mantelpiece. He stretched his wings out and stared in however at the reflection before him. In the middle of his left wing was a single, black feather. There were two in a similar location on his right.

"Am I… Am I..."

"You're not becoming an angel of death yet," Damien said, rising to his own feet. "But that can happen. If each of those top feathers become black, then you'll be forced to become one, rather than have that choice."

"Why… Why didn't you tell me?" Philip turned to Damien, tears of fury and fear welling in his eyes. "Why didn't you tell me this could happen?"

"You've known yourself that acts with a demon would taint you. I thought you knew of this."

" _GET OUT!"_ Philip screamed, throwing a hand to the side. "I don't want to see you again!"

"Philip-"

" _Just go!"_

Damien nodded slowly. Unable to think of what to say before he left, he vanished in his red flame, leaving Philip alone. Breathing heavily, the angel ran to the bathroom. Firstly, he washed away the evidence of the event from his face, before his hands rummaged through a drawer under the sink until he found what he was looking for: a pair of scissors.

Biting his lip, he watched his movements in the mirror. His right hand reached over his left shoulder to grip the single black feather in between the blades. He was shaking.

 _'On a count of three. One… Two…_ Three!'

He let out a scream when the feather was ripped away from the others, unbearable pain shooting through the nerves inside. He fell to the floor, his hands grasping at the wing. His fingers then raked his back when the pain had travelled down his spine. He panted, his shut eyes releasing tears as he waited for the pain to subside. It seemed to take an eternity, but eventually, he was left with a dull pain. He grabbed hold of the fallen scissors and scrambled back to his feet.

"Just two more times," he said to his mess of a reflection, his voice almost insane. This time, he held the scissors in his left hand as he reached over his right shoulder, now holding onto one of the black feathers.

 _'You know what to expect now. One… Two… Three.'_

By the third time, he had controlled his scream, but his body was experiencing the worst pain he ever had. He fell to the floor and simply lay there, his head tilted on one side as he stared at the sign of his sin.

Like Damien had said, there was no going back now. Not now his body had been infused with evil.

* * *

 **A/N:** So... Longest chapter yet. Sorry if it was awful - I've never written proper smut before. Hopefully it wasn't too bad!

I hope you enjoyed the chapter, and feel free to leave your thoughts! Thank you for reading!


	13. Aftermath

**A/N:** Slight filler chapter, I'm afraid, but not entirely as I like to make progress at least a little in every chapter. Only several more to go now, I believe! Maybe I'll reach chapter 20 at the most? I'm not sure, yet, as I still need to figure out how to bring in my planned ending smoothly.

Thank you for the feedback - hopefully you enjoy this one!

* * *

 **Afterlife's Council**

 **Chapter 13 - Aftermath**

* * *

Within the darkness of a room surrounded by cracked stone walls, the glisten of a tear-stained face was visible in the faint glow of torchlight. The face belonged to a teenager chained against one of the walls, his head lowered so that messy blond hair fell over his eyes. He stayed frozen in this position until a door creaked into the silence.

"My, your injuries still haven't healed," murmured the voice. The person shut the door after them, clucking their tongue. "Perhaps you were harmed a little too much last time. You are, after all, simply bait."

"W-Why am I still here? I thought I-I could return to Heav-"

"I'm afraid that the information that it was you who was captured is not known by Craig Tucker. The demon we are trying to lure isn't trusted, after all. There is no way that he could find out."

"I d-don't know any demons..."

"Oh, of course not. But they know you. In another lifetime, that is. A lovely group of friends; Tucker, Donovan, Black and, of course, yourself. In one lifetime, they all perished whilst you remained, and they took their own individual roles in the afterlife. That is why you are being used by us, I'm afraid."

"But w-hy do you want to lure th-them?"

"Tucker would be an extremely useful ally. He rarely cares about harming others to get what he wants. Our rebellion would be improved even further if we had him on our side, and our individual goals would finally be achieved. We need him for that. And, considering that we all have the knowledge now that he is very desperate to do what he must, we know that he would join us now more than ever if he knows we can take him to you."

The person hummed in thought, walking towards the soul with their arms crossed as they looked at him thoughtfully.

"You know, I am trying to decide whether to hurt you further or not. Perhaps we could make out as though multiple angels had harmed you because they believe Tucker is one of us… What do you think?"

"N-No no no… Please, n-no..."

The soul was already bruised around his eyes and throat, with some scattered seemingly all over his body. His body had been sliced across his cheek and torso from a demon's knife, causing him to have even further emotional trauma over that which he already possessed. He was supposed to be granted eternal bliss in Heaven; now he was chained to a wall, experiencing pain he didn't think he would ever feel in his time in the afterlife.

"I'm sorry, you're shaking like a leaf." The voice didn't sound very apologetic at all; it was patronising, with a smirk tugging at their lips. "Perhaps I'll leave you be until next time. But what do you say about more of the knife? Would you like that?"

"Y-You're a monster..." the soul whispered.

"Not a monster. Just evil." The person spun on the spot gracefully, walking over to the door as they waved over their shoulder. "Farewell for now. Enjoy your stay."

Suddenly filled with more panic, the soul screamed for them to not shut the door, not to leave him in the increasing darkness. The pleads fell on deaf ears as the door was slammed harder than they had originally planned. Tweek guessed that it was magic which had dimmed the torches completely, leaving him whimpering to himself in the pitch black room.

His captor paused outside of the room, their lips curled into a sickening grin

"Don't forget," they said quietly to themselves. "We still have Philip Pirrup to control."

* * *

Kyle looked up at the sound of a knock on his door, placing down a book onto the bed sheets covering him.

"Come in," he called. When he saw the familiar face of Bebe peek round the door, he felt his soul already easing. "Hey, Bebe."

"Hey," she responded with one of her radiant smiles. She closed the door after herself, walking forward a few steps so she was stood by the bed. "I'm sorry that I haven't been here since the other day, it's been hectic out there."

"Don't worry; it's only been three days," Kyle reassured her. "I would have been fine to leave by now anyway, but they just don't want me to leave here yet just in case the negativity brought on by that knife made me… Well, do something I would regret."

"How _is_ that?" she murmured. When she had visited Kyle not long after Philip, though she wasn't treated badly by any means, she had definitely been able to see a huge change in Kyle's attitude.

"A little better. Not completely, but they _did_ say that a demon's knife is hard to overcome."

"I think you're doing very well despite that."

"Thank you," he responded with genuine gratitude, but with a desire to change the subject nonetheless. "Have you seen Philip at all? I've been sent messages by him, but not seen him in person since the day it happened."

Bebe hesitated. "Well, none of us have, at least not properly. He's been shut in your home for days, drowning himself in work. He asks all of us to come back another time and has only passed on messages through his door. So we've only heard his voice."

"What's wrong with him? Why is he shutting himself away from people so much?"

"We have no idea," she sighed. "And knowing that idiot, he's probably not even slept. I swear that he's going to make his soul have an early expire at this rate."

"I'll go talk to him as soon as they let me out of here," Kyle said. "We live together, after all. He can't shut me out."

"Just don't feel like it's your responsibility to look after him, okay? You've been through far too much for that and he is the mentor, not you. Don't push yourself."

"I won't. I just don't want him to be like this."

"None of us do," she said sadly. "We just don't know how to help."

Silence full of tension fell. Philip had always been an angel many others looked up to. With his positive personality, his desire to do good and his unbelievable amount of purity, angels saw him as their role model, someone who they should be similar to. But now he was shut off from the world and radiating negativity, no one knew how to approach him and many had lost the one that they had once idolised.

The silence was broken by the sound of knocking on the door once again. It opened, and Bebe felt her heart skip a beat. The almost unnatural beauty of Wendy was something which she would never find herself become accustomed to.

"There you are," said Wendy. "Gregory was hoping to see you."

"Has something happened?"

A pause. "Well, kind of… I think it is easier for you to just see him rather than hearing an explanation from me."

"I understand." Bebe turned back to Kyle, appearing apologetic. "I'm sorry, am I okay to leave you?"

"Of course, this is more important."

She smile gratefully before she made her way to the door, her movements halting when he spoke again.

"If you see Kenny, can you ask him to come here? Please?"

Pain stabbed in her chest. She had already been told about the incident between Kenny and Kyle by the latter. Similar to the lack of appearance of Philip, no angel had seen Kenny, either. It wasn't surprising. Everyone knew by now that Kenny had never grown so close to an angel. He must have felt like he had lost his closest friend.

"Of course I will," she said softly. She knew it was a question out of desperation, however. He was well aware that Kenny had not been seen for three days.

"Such a poor soul," Wendy murmured after the two left the room and began to make their way out of the infirmary. "It's cruel how he has been treated. No one deserves that."

Bebe shook her head, unable to form words due to the lodge in her throat. She thought she might have cried if she did so.

"It's fine to cry, Bebe," said Wendy softly. As usual, she was able to read the expressions and thoughts of another person perfectly. "You stay far too strong for other people without ever releasing negative emotion yourself."

"I have to stay strong for others. As someone who doesn't have as large of a role as others, it's my duty to bring out the best in others through smiles."

"You don't need to have that duty for me," Wendy responded. Her right hand was placed on Bebe's shoulder. "I don't need others to remain pure. You're always free to show negativity in front of me. Plus, in regards to your role, it won't remain as small as you think for long."

Bebe looked at her with curiosity, but merely got a knowing smile in return. Then she realised which direction they were going – up the stairs to where another four private rooms were located. "Wait, why are we going here?"

Another pause. "Well, Gregory isn't one hundred percent okay, shall we say."

Bebe's eyes widened in disbelief. She didn't believe Wendy's words until the other angel knocked and opened a door on their left. Stood by the bed in the centre of the room were Token and Liane. Inside the bed lay Gregory who looked awful despite his straight posture. The pale face, hollow cheekbones and thinner wings caused concern and panic to rise in Bebe's chest.

"Sir, whatever happened to you?" she managed to ask. Her palms had grown sweaty with nerves from the state of the most powerful angel in centuries.

"This? Do not worry, it takes more than this to bring me down."

Token cleared his throat. Gregory sighed, rubbing the back of his neck.

"All right, all right. It seems as though my soul will be expiring sooner than I had originally anticipated. I have questioned this for a while, so it seems as through that pushing myself to deal with stress may have triggered this."

"But… But..." She didn't exactly now how she would finish this sentence. Why had they not known sooner? How long had Gregory known about this himself? Who would take over after him? Question after question whirled around her mind, so much so that she thought she may have started to feel light-headed. She decided to settle on what was probably the most important question of all. "How much longer are you expected to last?"

"We suspect a couple of decades," Gregory replied. Bebe's heart sank. That period of time – especially for an angel as old as Gregory – was tiny. She couldn't believe it.

"That soon?" she whispered. "Why didn't we know sooner?"

"I was going to finally tell others in a much more sophisticated way than this a while ago. But then this rebellion started, and my mind was far too preoccupied. Not to mention that before this, I still had at least five decades left, possibly even a century if I took care of myself in my last remaining time here. But after what has happened, especially after the disappearance of an angel and a soul in Heaven, my lifespan was reduced rapidly. That is why I am like this."

Right on cue, Gregory coughed into his hand. Bebe's heart was beating faster by the minute, her body shaking as her panic grew – but it settled almost completely at the warm sensation Wendy's hand on her shoulder provided.

"We have already discussed how we will move on from this," she said. "We have come to reasonable solutions, and that is why you were brought here."

"Though I will be continuing my work if I recover, both Token and Wendy will take over my work for me together," Gregory started. "The reason it shall be both of them is because this was all very sudden, so the responsibilities of being God are far too great for one person to handle on such short notice. Before my death, I will decide who is the most capable to take my role, with the other standing as a close assistant.

"Now, that is two top angels taken, which may cause people to panic as they only have one angel more readily available to speak to. And so, both you and Liane here will take those roles. As a pure soul who is already looked up to a great amount, I decided quickly that you deserve a higher status which is equal to Philip."

"M-Me?" Bebe stuttered. She had hardly expected something like this. "But I… I..."

"Need more confidence in yourself," Wendy finished for her. She smiled, giving the shoulder her hand was still laid on a squeeze. "Don't you remember what I said to you when we met at long last? I told you that I had heard great things about you. You see yourself as ordinary, Bebe, but I swear that is not the case. You're an extraordinary angel who deserves this more than anyone. I truly mean it."

The words that Wendy gave her were so encouraging that Wendy's nerves were vanishing quickly once again. She nodded and smiled gratefully, She had never exactly deemed herself as a bad angel by any means, but she had also never seen herself as special. Of course, she was looked up by many, but she didn't – or now, _hadn't –_ seen why. But from someone as intelligent as Wendy, how could she not believe her words?

"She's right, you know," said Gregory. "You'll do brilliantly. That's why I chose you. If, of course, you take the offer. You do not have to take this role if you aren't comfortable with doing so."

"I'll do it," she responded, her voice much more confident than it had been previously. This caused Wendy's expression to grow even happier for Bebe, pride filling her chest. "However, there is one thing I must do before I take on more work for you."

"What is that?"

"Make Philip come to his senses."

* * *

Philip was scribbling on a large piece of paper in front of him. Particularly, this was on the name of an angel. He had come to the conclusion that this person had no connections in being one of the rebels.

This was one of many constructed diagrams. On these were angels, angels of death and demons which were known to have some kind of connection between either their own kind or another of the two, whether this was through known family, friendship or a shared life in the past. Due to them not knowing the quantity of the people who worked together but were sure that it wasn't just one of the three species, he knew that those with a bond were likely to work together – Craig and Clyde, who had wished to join them, were an example of this.

When this was weighed with their personalities, lives as a human and goals they once had, it seemed to completely cross out some of them. Others were not so simple. There were just too many names, too many histories to go through. Unless they had some kind of lead soon, they'd practically be at a dead end.

But it kept his mind busy. He knew confining himself was bad for his mental health but he also knew that he felt too ashamed of himself to face others. And so, he piled all of this work in front of him, trying to make himself useful. It was a perfect distraction until he stopped, even if that was brief. His mind not being busy allowed it to go right back to playing the scene of his sexual act on Damien over and over again.

He had hoped, at least, that the incident with the feathers would halt his lust completely. But somehow, it hadn't. It was as though he had removed the evidence of sin on the surface but did nothing to erase it from inside himself. He was truly contaminated now, his will to not give in disappearing completely.

He clenched his fists when his mind wandered back to this. If Damien had been exactly like he was before, this would have been much easier. But he wasn't. Somehow, Damien had become the comforter and listener he needed. His words were understanding, his voice soft – at least, as soft as it could be for Damien. Even if it was merely for minutes, Damien had seemed human.

" _Philip-"_

His real name. The sound of it continuously played in his head. Then there was the memory of Damien's head drawing closer, as though to kiss him…

Philip's heart thumped in his chest. The thought of their lips meeting shouldn't have seemed so pleasant.

The sound of knocking on his door startled him, his eyes wide for a moment before he breathed out. He got out of his chair and walked out of the study to the front door, which he had left locked.

"Who is it?" he called through it.

"It's me." Bebe's voice. "Let me in, Philip."

"Now's not really a good-"

"Oh, for Heaven's sake Philip, _let me in!"_

Her voice was so demanding that he couldn't help but oblige. He took a key out of his pocket and unlocked it. The door was swung open as soon as he did so.

"Explain!" she exclaimed, barging her way inside.

"Explain what?"

"Why you've shut yourself off from everyone. Philip, what on Earth is going on with you?"

"Nothing, I just..." He hesitated. "I've had a lot to deal with."

"So that's a reason to not come to us, your friends? We're here for you, you know. Whatever problems you're facing, we can help-"

"No, you can't!" he shouted suddenly. He quickly put a hand over his mouth, embarrassed.

"Why not?"

"I can't explain it," he said slowly. "I just… It's something I have to deal with on my own. It's okay."

"It's clearly not okay. Look, we-"

"I'm _fine_ , Bebe!"

The snap made her blink a couple of times, silenced for several moments. "I don't know why, Philip," she said, her voice surprisingly cold for someone who was usually so cheerful. "But I have never heard your voice sound so dark."

She was right. He had never spoke in such a rude, aggressive tone to _anyone_ in Heaven, never mind Bebe. He was taking his emotions out on others and it was so unfair that he thought he might have broken down from the guilt.

"I'm sorry," he murmured. "You're right. I can't explain what's happening with me right now but I shouldn't take it out on anyone, especially not my friends. I really do apologise."

This seemed to settle her slightly. "Even if you don't want to talk about it right now, I'm here for you, okay?"

Philip nodded. He felt warm and welcomed at the first proper approach from someone over these last few days. Though he knew that no matter how much she encouraged him, he couldn't speak to her or anybody else about this.

Lust was one thing to deal with. The realisation that he could have fallen for someone so dark and desired to experience something as simple as a kiss was another thing entirely for him, one which he would have never anticipated ever since their first meeting. Now he was stuck between fighting and ignoring the feels, or accepting them.

Never had he faced such a difficult choice in his life.


	14. Forbidden Emotions

**A/N:** I've actually managed to write this whole chapter over two days. I didn't write it sooner because of lack of motivation, but I have worked out how I'm going to start the end, so I want to get to that stage.

As I won't be putting a note at the end of the story, I just want to say here that I hope you enjoy it, and please feel free to leave your thoughts if you have a minute after reading!

* * *

 **Afterlife's Council**

 **Chapter 14 - Forbidden Emotions**

* * *

The news of the beginning of the fall of Heaven's leader was kept as secret as possible, with few angels knowing the truth.

Philip's heart sank when he was told the news. He wished that he hadn't spent the last few days feeling sorry for himself whilst being locked away. Now, though he was struggling, his problems seemed minor. Treading on the edge of darkness caused by temptations, ones which he should have been able to deal with, could not compare with the expiring of a soul so great.

Despite feeling guilt over this and clearly doing so, Gregory had still spoken to Philip quietly alone to ask if there was anything he needed to talk about. The way Gregory spoke in such a concerned, welcoming voice, so different than his usual tone, might have possibly made Philip talk about his problems at least briefly if the circumstances had been different. But they weren't. There was no way that Philip was going to bring the attention to himself during his Lord's suffering. He knew that he had to deal with his problems himself.

Luckily, not all were staying in the infirmary, for Kyle was now back on his feet. Though he had a tendency to snap when feeling pressured, he was beginning to return to his normal self.

He had spent several days after his release searching for Kenny when he wasn't working. So far, he had been unsuccessful. This was until he had spotted the angel of death exiting the infirmary, where he was no doubt visiting Gregory.

"Kenny!" he shouted, jogging over. Kenny raised his head in surprise and was quick to frown.

"Sorry, dude, gotta get back to Purga-"

"That's enough avoiding me," said Kyle, grabbing onto Kenny's arm so that he wouldn't have been able to teleport alone. The latter sighed, brushing back his blond hair.

"Well, what do you expect after what happened?"

"I'm sorry, Kenny, I really am. I wasn't thinking straight."

They were both silent for several moments, Kenny pondering over a reply.

"I'm sorry too. I've gotten far used to dealing with the death of humans that it was a simple task for me to do. It was thoughtless."

Kyle shook his head. "No, you were just doing your job. I shouldn't be angry at you, just whoever caused this rule to exist in the first place."

"Well, it's a fucked up world we live in, huh?" Kenny laughed humourlessly, before clearing his throat. He felt apologetic over that comment. After his previous state, negativity was the last thing that Kyle needed to hear, even if he seemed to be a lot better. His lack of response was adding to Kenny's guilt over his words and he wondered how to change the subject.

A sudden thought came to him. "Say, are you meant to be working?"

"No, I'm on a break. I'm not supposed to push myself too much at the moment. Why?"

"Fancy taking a trip with me?"

* * *

Purgatory was similar to what Kyle had pictured.

It had a very chilling atmosphere. A dark night sky watched over an endless, monochromatic world filled with streets and landscapes of all shades of grey. It was like watching a black and white television, the only colour existing from the winged figures and confused souls walking by.

"Kenny, am I even allowed to be here?" Kyle asked.

"Well, it's not really _liked_ , but it's not exactly against the rules."

The answer made Kyle laugh, even when an angel of death walking near them looked over in annoyance and appeared to sigh when he saw Kenny.

"I've got something to show you, anyway," he said, turning round to grin at Kyle. "You'll see!"

Curiosity took over all of the angel's other emotions. He followed Kenny through the streets, surprised that anyone could know where they were going. Though the atmosphere had saddened him at first, now that Kyle was watching the kind smiles and reassuring words given to souls by angels of death, he was beginning to feel warm. He wasn't spoken to, but he was gazed at in awe by several souls, who seemed to see his pure white wings as the most beautiful sight they had ever witnessed.

"Just through here now," Kenny said, pointing down a thin cobblestone path surrounded by grass, which was located on the edge of the concrete they were currently stood on. Kyle shivered as they walked under trees, their shadows rather eerie as they covered their faces. Kenny's saw Kyle's discomfort over being in a place much less bright and welcoming than Heaven, and so gave his hand a reassuring squeeze.

"Not much further," he smiled. He didn't let go as they continued walking.

He was right. Just a minute or two later, they walked out onto a clearing. Kyle let out a small gasp as he froze into place, staring at the sight in front of him.

They were no longer shadowed by leaves blowing above their heads. They were stood towards the edge of a cliff, which was facing an ongoing stretch of brilliantly clear water, the waves highlighted with the reflection of the moon and stars which adorned the sky. Strangely, the fact that the grass was also absent of colour added to the beauty which had currently felt ominous.

It was not all monochrome, however, for at the edge of the cliff lay a bouquet of blue roses. The only possible reasoning behind why they did not match the world around them was that they were brought here from another dimension.

"Kenny, it's beautiful, but why..."

"I brought Stan here. He was nervous and I didn't know how long he would be in Purgatory for, so I wanted to take him to a much more relaxing, beautiful place." They walked over to the roses. Kenny bent down to pick one up, twirling it in his fingers as he inspected the perfect, deep petals, the colour resembling the eyes of the friend which had been lost. "I've been leaving these for him. He was an amazing person, destroyed for no decent reason. I couldn't let him stay here with no tribute. I mean, the best soul bro I've had? Yeah, there's no way I would've done nothing."

"Soul bro?"

"Well, he was a soul, wasn't he? And he was my bro. So… Soul bro."

Kyle just stared in disbelief before burst into laughter. The sound was angelic music to Kenny's ears.

"My God, I can't with you," Kyle spluttered when he had managed to calm his laughter. "Soul bro… You just get worse."

"I'm well aware," Kenny grinned. Though the grin lingered, his expression and voice grew more serious. "I also scattered the ashes that were left behind onto the water." His gaze landed on the waves for a brief moment before diverting back to Kyle's eyes. "I wanted to bring you here so you know how much souls really do matter to me, and how much I have mourned over Stan despite me not knowing him for long. Even if my actions made me seem different, I do care. I've just been an angel of death for so long that I'm used to doing things like that without a second thought."

"I do understand that, but I really appreciate it," Kyle said softly. "Really, I do. This is so thoughtful of you, and the risk that you took to bring me here to show me what you've done in memory of him..."

"I've always loved a little risk," Kenny responded. He glanced down at their still entwined hands after he said those words. Kyle had been so distracted by Kenny's words and how natural the contact felt that he hadn't even realised they were still holding onto each other. However, he didn't anticipate Kenny's next move, and let out a gasp when his hand was held up to Kenny's lips.

"Wh-What are you doing?" Kyle asked, his eyes widening.

"Kissing your hand," Kenny answered simply, giving him a friendly smile. His other hand held out the rose to Kyle. "Can you hold this for a second?"

"Sure, but why-"

He was cut off by Kenny's now free hand lifting his chin up slightly to allow their lips to join easily. Kyle's body froze in surprise, the rose falling out of his hand which had seemed to lost all function. It fell to the floor silently. Kyle stayed utterly still, unable to move as heat rose to his cheeks, but then he kissed back. Kenny seemed to smile into the kiss, tightening his hold slightly on Kyle's hand. It was utter bliss for both of them, but it ended far too quickly – Kyle's hands landed on Kenny's chest to push him away gently as reality returned to him.

"No, we can't, Kenny. You're an angel of death."

Kenny stroked his chin thoughtfully, pursing his lips as his eyes looked up. "Oh yeah. Well, if you consider the fact that I'm basically half and half, does that make it only like, partly breaking a rule?"

"I don't think it works that way."

"I've personally never been one for rules anyway," he said, his hands now resting on the back of his head. "I mean, they'd never find out, and it's not like you'll be tainted by me like you would be from a demon… But it's your call."

Kyle rolled his eyes, cupping Kenny's cheeks to bring him in closer so their lips met again. The contact lasted for longer this time, both savouring every second of the harmonic bliss. They were both smiling widely when they finally broke apart.

"I've wanted this since I met you," Kenny said, playing with a strand of Kyle's red hair. "Of course you would want to as well, considering that I'm not only handsome as fuck, but I'm also extremely witty, charming and have a great sense of humour."

"Get over yourself," Kyle smirked, punching him lightly on his arm. He then sighed, taking in the view before him one last time as he bent down to pick up the loose rose by his feet. "I better get heading back now. They'll start wondering why I'm taking so long."

Slightly disappointed, Kenny nodded. "Yeah, that's true. Come on, then."

Kyle placed a hand on the angel of death's arm. They shared one last kiss before they disappeared into the silence of Purgatory's everlasting night. It didn't seem so dismal anymore.

* * *

"You sent an angel of death for me?"

Philip nodded silently at the tall figure standing outside his door before beckoning them inside. The door was closed after him, the noise seeming to be loud in the silence, despite the fact that it was shut with very little strength. Philip hoped that Kyle didn't shorten the break he was taking outside of their home.

"I must be losing my mind," Philip laughed, sitting down onto the sofa in the lounge. "I feel guilty, but I don't know whether it's over what I did or if it's because I didn't listen to what you have to say."

"You don't have a reason to," Damien replied, still standing. "I should have warned you despite my belief that you knew what could happen. A physical stain like that… It is worse the more you have a conscience of it. I should have told you."

"I was told the consequences when I first started. I just didn't try hard enough to remember." Philip forced his lips into a smile. "I guess I never knew it would actually happen, huh?"

"Why exactly did you call me here, Pip?"

"I thought that avoiding you would just make it worse and play on my mind more. Whichever path I take after this, at least I'm not just letting my emotions grow."

Damien's head tilted. "Emotions? The other day was barely emotion. You sucked my dick, Pip, not take my hand and skip into the sunset."

Philip rolled his eyes but couldn't hold in a snigger. "Shut up, you know what I mean."

"Partly. You mean the anger and guilt over it?"

He nodded. "Yeah, that's right."

"I kind of feel like there's a bit more to it. I don't know, you just seem… Different. You've been guilty over your thoughts since we first met. It seems like something else is playing on your mind – unless, of course, your previous emotion has just increased."

"No, you're right." Philip leaned back against the sofa, closing his eyes. "It's complicated."

Damien hesitated briefly before sitting down next to him. "God, I thought I'd be the last person to play the role of a therapist. But like I said the other day: I need you in your best condition if you are to help finally get further in this case. So go on, just spill whatever thoughts are in that head of yours. I won't bite. Unless you want me to, obviously."

Philip decided to ignore that last comment. "You've just seemed… Different, lately."

"How so?"

"I think you know. In the beginning, you were nothing but someone who wanted to get their own way. But now, even if it's for your own benefit, you've started to… Well, seem to care."

Damien pondered over this. "Well… Everyone isn't black and white, Pip. I'm an asshole, naturally. But recent things have awakened an old side to me that I thought I lost long ago. I guess that now you've mentioned it, I have grown a bit soft. Maybe I need to go torture a soul or… Fifty. That'd do the trick."

"An old side?" Philip said, deciding not to ask Damien if he was serious about the souls or not. "One you had when you were human?"

"Perhaps." He didn't elaborate from that and had spoke only after hesitating. "So, what has that got to do with anything?"

Now it was Philip's turn to hesitate. "Well I, uh..." He didn't even know how to put his feelings into words. "At first, I was just tempted by lust, which was hard enough to deal with. But now I've had you show care for my well-being, even if it's just because of work, it's made me think that I… Well, might not be just, erm, lustful over you."

Damien's eyes had widened in surprise briefly, though he was quick to do a brilliant job of hiding it. "Oh."

Philip coughed, his face growing red with embarrassment. "Yeah. Crazy."

"Opposites attract and all that, I suppose. But Philip, we couldn't possibly hide something like that. Love is different. It isn't just about fucking when you feel like it. We'd constantly want to see each other, even after this ordeal has been sorted and so we'd have less opportunity. It's just not something which could work."

"I know that, it's all silly, really..." Philip's words trailed off. "Wait, why would we even hide it? Don't tell me you-"

"Honestly, I don't even know." Damien leaned forward, his face facing the floor as his hands rested on his head as though he had a migraine. "You remind me of someone I once loved. Too many memories have been reminding me of that time recently, which is why I'm confused like this. I've only cared about lust for so long that I have no idea where to put myself." He sat back up, forcing a humourless smile. "God, we've got ourselves in a right state."

"I should just become more neutral and become and angel of death," Philip joked. "It'd be easier."

"Hey, that's not exactly a bad-"

"I have too many friends I would betray by leaving them. I don't think I could ever leave Heaven."

"It's not betrayal. In fact, an angel of death is the most reasonable of the three. It's simply choosing a much more understanding path. I think you'd work well with souls anyway."

"Please don't tempt me." He found it strange how in the past, he would've said that simply over them having sexual contact. Now it was about something much more life-changing.

"It's up to you, anyway. You don't have to listen to an evil, confused fuck like me."

"You're not evil," Philip found himself saying. "Not more so than you need to be in your role, at least."

"You clearly don't know me well enough, then."

They sat in silence for minutes. The tension made the short amount of time feel a lot greater, ticking away at a much more rapid pace. Both of their minds were racing, both wanting to break the silence with one of their many questions but neither finding the words to string together.

Philip soon realised he was tired of asking questions. "Even if it's just this once and makes me worse than ever, I have to do this."

He cupped Damien's cheeks with his hands and brought his face closer to bring their lips together. The sensation was surprisingly warm, a stark contrast to the coldness which radiated off Damien's body.

The Devil had been somewhat shocked at the sudden action, but it barely took any time at all for him to respond. He kissed back, his hands burying themselves into Philip's hair as he allowed himself to lose himself in the sweet taste of the angel's lips. They were soft, somehow able to represent the purity of Philip through them. It was incredible how something forbidden could feel so right.

Philip was surprised when Damien pulled back, expecting him to have kissed deeper. But he was staring at Philip's eyes.

"That's one thing that's different," he murmured. "Blue eyes. But your personality is completely different as well. It's strange that you're so different, yet I'm attracted to you just as much, if not more..."

A strange expression of admiration was evident in Damien's eyes, but faded a little when he found himself losing the will to hold back. He pushed Philip down onto the sofa, hovering above him with eyes that glistened with the temptations of a beast, but the hands which touched the material laying on his chest were gentle.

"You're just so beautiful," he said quietly, simply appreciating said beauty before he leaned down, his lips just inches away from Philip's. "I want every part of you to be mine, Philip. Body and soul."

To prove his words, he pinned Philip's hands above his head with one large hand gripping against slim wrists. He looked briefly at Philip's face, closing the gap between their lips when he received a small nod. His spare hand trailed down to Philip's trousers and grabbed at his crotch, taking the opportunity to slip his tongue into Philip's mouth when he gasped. He kissed roughly, enticed completely by the taste as he undid the button of Philip's trousers with surprising ease. They were pulled down, the hand sliding inside Philip's underwear. Their kiss broke so that Damien could instead place his lips on Philip's neck, smirking at an appreciative moan when his teeth dug into it.

But then panic rushed in all at once. As fingers brushed against his entrance, his whole body had quivered – including his wings. The feathers brushing against his skin caused a flashback of the pain he was forced to endure after ripping the darkness away from his body. A small fraction of his mind remembered Damien's words about conscience playing a large part, but the rest didn't cooperate with reasoning.

Damien had just noticed the dramatic change in Philip's stance when the arms under his grip were yanked away. Not expecting the sudden force, Damien stumbled to the side, one leg landing on the ground as he had to quickly maintain his balance with a hand on the coffee table nearby.

"Fuck, Pip, what was that all about?" Damien asked, balancing himself so that he was able to push himself to his feet. "You were fine a second ago."

"The black feathers," Philip said, not quite sitting properly when he moved himself. He was slouched over, his fingers running over his wings. His breathing was deep, his heartbeat increasing. "I remembered them. The pain, the fear over them-"

"Of course you'll get them if you let yourself be controlled by your conscience like this," Damien responded.

"It's not my fault that I can't ignore my purity!"

"Purity this, purity that! For fuck's sake, either let yourself go or stop leading me on only to end up shouting at me in the end!"

"But I'm an ange-"

" _SO WAS I!"_

Both Damien and Philip froze simultaneously. The first with a hand hovering over his mouth, his eyes widened at blurting out a secret which he had kept locked away from every other soul in existence. The latter whose body had straightened, unable to move or speak as he stared at the demon in front of him, completely unsure of how to respond to a confession which he would have never expected.


	15. The Truth Behind a Lie

**A/N:** I apologise for the time it took me to update - I've had my health worsen considerably over the last couple of months and just didn't have the motivation to finish this until recently. But yeah, it's finally here! And then... About two or three more chapters? I'm unsure yet, I still need to work it out properly.

Anyway, last bit of smut in this, I believe. I say both sorry and you're welcome, dependent on how damn bad I am at it.

I hope you enjoy the chapter!

* * *

 **Afterlife's Council**

 **Chapter 15 - The Truth Behind a Lie**

* * *

"An angel? But… How..."

Philip was utterly stunned. His mind replayed Damien's three words over and over, trying to make sense of it but not being able to grasp the reason behind them. There was no way that this demon, known for ruthlessness and being one of the most fitting Devils in history, was once an angel. Not him. It was impossible.

"Only Lucifer completed the cycle of going from an angel to a demon… There's no way..."

His words trailed off when Damien shook his head slowly. The demon breathed out deeply, straightening himself out. He was trying to maintain an expressionless face but even through this, Philip could see that he was somewhat shaken over his own words.

"No. That's what everyone thinks. Actually, that's the wrong word. That's what they _believe_ is the truth. All have lived with that lie except for me."

"But how could everyone believe a lie? Including Gregory?"

Damien sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "It's… A long story, Pip."

"Long, short, I don't care. You can't just say something like that and then not be honest about it." Philip paused, his voice growing softer. "What happened, Damien? Why aren't you an angel anymore?"

Damien hesitated before sitting back down onto the sofa, staring down at his hands as he did so. For a man who seemed like nothing would ever strike fear in his heart, he looked scarily vulnerable.

"Do you… Do you remember me mentioning about how a demon and angel were caught in Purgatory together?"

"Yeah, of course I do… Wait, were you that angel?"

He nodded slowly. "That's right. I can't even remember how long ago it was, now. But I still remember her clearly.

"We were known for playfully arguing after Afterlife's Council meetings, sometimes even during them. We got on much better than others did. Unfortunately, we naturally couldn't see each other. But as time went on, things started feeling different between us. My heart started to beat faster when I looked at her face and ached when we were apart for a long time. Eventually, it got too much. I slipped her a note asking for her to meet me in Purgatory. It was risky, but back then, it didn't take as much power for a demon or angel to go there. So it was our only option."

" _I am all for breaking the rules, but do you not think this is extreme?"_

" _I needed to see you alone. I cannot stop thinking about you, Karina."_

"I knew it was wrong for me to be like this, but I couldn't help how I felt and she was the exact same. We made love in the darkness of Purgatory for the first time that day. We started to meet whenever we were able to. It was absolutely crazy, a demon and angel being in love. But we still held that love close to our hearts."

"But you were caught?"

Damien nodded. His black hair was shielding his face as he lowered his head further. "It was my fault. I was careless and didn't look around me properly when I left. I was followed, and they waited until they caught us doing something far more forbidden than us simply being in Purgatory."

"What happened to you both after that?"

"I had the choice of either being executed or become a demon there and then. I had already been tainted somewhat by her – it's how I know so much about your black feathers. Out of spite for Heaven and it destroying my happiness, I chose the latter. Centuries of spite and anger made me become Satan. As for her, because she wasn't an angel committing numerous sins and was also not the one to make the first move, she was allowed to be reincarnated. She never quite moved on from being evil, though, and I had to meet her again in Hell as a demon. She wasn't the same – she still had the same hair and skin colour, but her personality had changed, as did her body. Entirely so, as she was no longer the same sex as previously. Being male caused her to be taller and look a lot different – it's quite funny, really. You resemble her just as much as the man who actually used to be her does, if not more so considering her life had been reset. That man is one you have known for a long time; Kenny McCormick."

"K-Kenny?" Philip echoed, his eyes widening. He never would've expected that name - he had never looked at Damien's face when they were around Kenny and had appeared no different. If Damien _had_ ever had an expression of one which belonged to a person with a broke heart, it had never been evident enough for others to notice. "He has no memory at all of that, right?"

Damien nodded. "That's right. Kenny lost every single memory of that life and every emotion he felt towards me as Karina. He wasn't the only one to lose his memories. You know how there was an event which caused altering memories to only be used in absolute emergencies, because of how greatly it was used? This is that event. The potion was poured into waterworks, sprinkled over every single angel, demon and soul until there was no one who knew but the current God of that time and myself. I was forced to live with the memories alone as a punishment.

"That's the reason I hate it here as much as I do. It's not for petty reasons or just from being a demon – after all, Gregory has next to no issues of being in Hell. It's because this is the place I once called home. It was the place I had adored more than anywhere until I wasn't treated equally to Karina and was thrown away like trash, as though I hadn't spent years working here. The brightness, beauty and peace in Heaven is something I now despise."

Philip's heart was thumping as he took in the information, almost too shocked to be able to speak. "God, Damien, I never knew. I'm so sorry."

"It's not your fault. It's not even Gregory's – he was just yet another angel back then who had his memory altered. That's why it's not him I hate. It's the system in general and how Heaven is not as beautiful to live in as it seems. It sickens me."

"So do you prefer Hell for this reason?"

"Definitely. I don't know whether I'm happy or not, but damn, I'm a lot more free now than I was back then. It's dark, it's depressing, but hey, at least we're more like workers for the system rather than slaves."

Philip winced at the word 'slaves'. He wasn't insulted by Damien – what made him wince was how he saw at least some truth behind it. Of course, they were all supposed to be workers. But if an angel isn't treated as fairly as a demon and have their lives unbelievably controlled, could they really be called the same thing?

"I would've never guessed would have happened to you," Philip murmured.

"Nor would most people. I'm the only one now who knows this – aside from you, of course. I apologise for that kind of weight now being on your shoulders." Damien finally straightened up, looking at Philip with a face of utter seriousness. "Can you see now, Philip, why I have wanted you to hurry up and make a choice with me? We can't just keep fooling around like we have, because eventually, we might get caught. At first I just wanted to use you but now that I feel differently, I want a better life for you than Heaven has to offer. You could still see your friends if you became an angel of death. I just don't want you to be trapped here any longer."

"Damien, I can't. Or at least, I need to think about it more. I know how unfair angels are treated here but at the same time, we will have a new God soon. As much as I have adored Gregory, perhaps a new ruler here would help ease the strictness."

"Maybe, if angels didn't naturally follow the rules out of their instincts. God does that more than anyone. You're hesitant now, but remember how much worse you were over your lust for me when we first met? It's even worse for God because they feel like they have to be utterly pure. If they ruin that, then they'd be driven crazy. I don't expect your lives to become more free any time soon."

"Still, I'll have to think about it. It's a huge decision to make."

"Of course; I don't expect you to make any rash decisions. It _would_ be until your soul eventually expires, after all."

They grew silent as they fell victim to getting lost in their own thoughts. They were practically the same – going over the story which Damien had told, the unfairness of his treatment, whether or not Philip would change his life. It would have been possible for him to return to Heaven, but that rarely happened. In almost every single case in existence, once a demon or angel had become an angel of death, that was that. They were far too drawn in by such a balanced personality that it stuck with them for the rest of their lives. Both Damien and Philip doubted that the latter would return.

"This would have been so much easier if I didn't have feelings be brought into this, too," Philip chuckled.

"As it would be for me," Damien agreed. The two were once again left in silence, though their movements hadn't halted like previously. Philip placed a hand over Damien's, who turned his round to hold it in his own and squeezed it, almost in desperation. The cold and warm sensations which radiated off the two combined and formed together. The contrast was terrifyingly perfect.

The fear from it caused sudden tears to form in his eyes. They dripped down his cheeks when he blinked, wetting his blond eyelashes. As though sensing the emotion, Damien turned his head to Philip.

"Hey hey, what's the crying for?"

"I'm just so conflicted," Philip replied, feeling ashamed about letting go of himself like this but was now unable to stop. "A part of me just wants to let everything go and be free, but I'm being pulled back completely."

His hand reached to wipe the tears away, but it froze in the air when Damien did so himself. It was surprising that such large, strong hands which had previously gripped onto his hair could also be incredibly gentle. "It's okay to let your emotions out. It's unhealthy to keep them bottled up inside."

At those reassuring words, Philip rested his head against Damien's shoulder. An arm wrapped around his own shoulders to bring him closer, the other hand resting on his thigh. The touch was welcoming, easing his spirit and mind despite the emotions he felt for Damien being what he feared.

"I feel like I should open up to you about myself," Philip said suddenly after his tears had dried a couple of minutes later. "You told me your biggest secret, yet you don't know anything about my past."

"Is there anything on your mind about it?"

Philip hesitated. "Kind of. I guess that because of what you told me, I want to talk about something I don't speak to others about, either."

Damien stayed silent. Philip saw this as a sign that he could continue.

"You might have noticed this, but I, um, don't exactly lack in experience with, you know, sexual acts."

At those words, still in silence, Damien sat up a little straighter, clearly curious about where this was heading.

"It's not because I had a partner. Homosexuality was completely forbidden when I was alive as a human. But that doesn't mean it didn't still happen. I grew up in an orphanage, one which I adored very much, but it was incredibly poor. I used to do anything I could for money and food, just because I hated to see everyone starve, especially the younger children. By the time I was a teenager, I realised that with my less masculine appearance and slender body, I would easily be able to earn more through prostitution. So that's what I did."

"Fuck," Damien said. The grip around Philip's shoulders grew slightly tighter. "I wouldn't have guessed _that_ was the reason why. I'm sorry, Philip."

"It's all right; it was always my choice and the smile on the children's faces from receiving enough food to eat made it all worthwhile. Eventually, I got so used to it that I did anything without a second thought, barely even thinking about what was happening and only keep my mind fixed on the money I was earning. It was dangerous, of course, but I pulled through. I continued with that kind of life until I died several years later. That was by a thief who wanted my earnings. I refused, and rather than persuade me, they just took out their knife and stabbed me, before running away with my money. My only regret whilst I was dying was that I could no longer protect the ones which I loved."

"You're incredible."

"What?" Philip blinked, obviously not expecting those two words.

"You're incredible," Damien repeated, his tone completely serious. "You've always cared so deeply for the ones you love without caring about how it effects you, even now a few centuries later. I'm amazed that even after all those years, you've remained pure and still have the same personality. It's no wonder that you're so hesitant about leaving Heaven. I understand now; you're quite simply a perfect angel."

Philip's cheeks flushed – the first time doing so over non-sexual words or actions. It was of appreciation from the words, happiness that he was complimented this way.

"Thank you," he managed to say somewhat quietly. The words felt far too mediocre and simple for the gratitude he felt, but he didn't know how to expand. Perhaps if Damien had been a fellow angel, it would have been easier. But such kind words coming from Satan himself made it hard to respond in a way he wanted.

Luckily, seeming to understand, Damien smiled. "Just saying the truth."

The smile. That's what struck inside Philip's chest, making the heart inside start hammering. Though the pale lips on a handsome, defined face were attractive, that's not what caused it. It was the emotion behind the smile, emotion which Philip would have never believed he would see from Damien, of all people. He had completely changed.

 _'No, that's not right,'_ Philip corrected himself mentally. _'A different side is a better thing to say.'_

The demon had once been an angel – of course he had this side buried deep down, under all the evil intentions which had naturally came to life from both his ordeals and the natural instincts of a demon. Was Philip the one who had caused this side to resurface, even if it was a side which only he saw?

It was this said side which made Philip press his lips against Damien's, not thinking as he did so. For a couple of blissful moments which erased all fragments of reality, there was a response. But then hands gripped his arms and pushed him back, causing it to disappointingly return.

"Philip, you said yourself that you had to think about this."

"I don't want to think. Please, just at least this once, let me stop thinking."

Damien hesitated. "If you forget your conscience and truly stop thinking, we'll come together as one perfectly, with no consequences like last time. But what about Kyle?"

"He's with Kenny, so he'll be a while. Plus, I think Bebe wanted to see him anyway. It'll be fine."

"If you're sure."

"I'm sure."

Damien nodded, before holding Philip's cheeks in his hands to pull him close again, the sensation of warmth and coldness coming together in a perfectly contrasted combination. Philip instantly kissed back, his hands reaching up inside Damien's shirt. Damien moved closer at the touch, responding with one of his own hands reaching under the back of Philip's shirt, stroking his hand around the base of Philip's wings. He shuddered due to the sensitivity, but it felt beautiful.

For several minutes, the two opposites stayed there on the couch, their tongues dancing inside of Philip's mouth. They eventually broke apart, short of breath. After inhaling deeply, Damien had just began to trail kisses down Philip's neck when he halted. Philip was about to ask what was wrong, before he was suddenly slid onto Damien's lap, his legs wrapped around Damien's waist. The demon stood up without warning, Philip's arms wrapping around his neck in brief panic – but the hands securing his thighs in place would've stopped him from falling anyway.

"What are you doing?"

"Not much space on your sofa," he said simply. He walked out of the living area, walking down the hall to a door and was about to kick it open before Philip started chuckling. "What? Why are you laughing?"

"That's the bathroom, you twat."

"Shower sex?"

"I don't even think your wings would fit. They're as big as your ego."

"Touché," Damien smirked. "But not untrue."

He then proceeded to reconnect their lips as he entered the correct room, throwing Philip forward onto the bed. He hovered over him, his hands resting on the white sheets either side. As though the limited time they had together would be the last ever moments they would experience together, their hands unbuttoned each other's shirts in a frenzy. Once removed, Damien's lips were kissing every inch of Philip's torso. A grin tugged at his lips when he received a moan for grazing his teeth across one of Philip's nipples.

"You're hard," he said simply as he pulled his head back slightly, his hand teasing at Philip's erection through his trousers.

"So are you. Can you hurry up a bit? We haven't got much time, and-"

"-And you're impatient," Damien finished, chuckled at the scowl he received for his words. He pulled out a strip of black cloth from his pocket, dangling it in his fingers, smirking.

"What's that for?"

"Blindfolding you," Damien answered bluntly. But then his expression grew more serious. "Without sight, your other senses would heighten. I want you to hear my voice more clearly, take more notice of pleasure through my touch. That is, if you want to."

"I'm wondering why you even have that with you. But okay."

"I always come prepared," was the simple response. With surprising gentleness, the material was placed over Philip's eyes and tied behind his head – carefully as to not tangle with his hair. His sight was completely covered, and he could already feel his heart beat increase, excitement shuddering through his body. He was ready to let go out of his mind, erase all thoughts of conscience. After all, he had no idea if he would ever be able to have this moment again.

Damien had been correct. His lips against Philip's skin seemed more intense than ever, the hands which were now stroking against Philip's member awakened sensors which he never thought existed.

When Damien had paused – Philip presumed to use the lubrication the demon had most likely brought with him, knowing how he could be – he broke the silence momentarily.

"I'm going to make you forget everything," he said quietly. "Just focus on me and me alone."

Philip nodded, though his mind had already been clear. Sin? Forbidden acts and love? None of it mattered in this moment.

He nodded again when Damien paused at his entrance, silently awaiting consent to continue. He eased one finger inside slowly, steadily building up a rhythm. Despite him wanting to do so for pleasure, Damien knew that he would hate himself for harming Philip. He was surprised at his change of character – after all, he had spent countless years not caring about harming others in the slightest. But that still applied to everyone else. Philip was the only one he loved. Philip was the only one he cared about.

"Please, Damien," Philip begged. The slightly breathless voice begging him, the flushed face with the concealed eyes… It was a masterpiece to him. "More. I'm not going to break. Please."

"Because you asked so nicely," Damien responded, allowing a little time to push a second finger inside, letting Philip's body become accustomed to the sensation.

"Damien, come on." Philip was practically whining by this point, his fists reaching up to rest against Damien's torso.

"As long as you're ready," Damien said, but the words' main purpose were to tease – he was well aware that Philip was more than ready. And so, after positioning himself against Philip's entrance, he pushed inside with a groan.

Philip's breath hitched, but he allowed his body to relax. They moved together in a steady rhythm, moans escaping from Philip as his prostate was hit over and over again. As the speed increased, Philip's hands found their way to Damien's back, gripping onto it harshly. His nails dug in, causing scratches to form on the skin, a stark contrast to the paleness.

"D-Damien, ah-"

"What is it, _angel?_ " Damien questioned. Philip shuddered at the word.

"Don't stop, please don't stop-"

"I wasn't planning to as long as you scream my name."

Philip inhaled deeply, _"DAMIEN!"_

His whole body froze when he heard a door in the distance slam. At first, he thought he might have imagined it, but Damien had halted, too. Then he quickly pulled out of Philip, removing his blindfold as the other pulled his underwear and trousers back on, before they each fastened their own shirts. Philip lost count of how many times Damien had cursed under his breath.

The throwing on of clothes wasn't enough – both of their hair was ruffled, their bodies dripping with sweat and their faces flushed, so when they jumped out into the hallway to come face to face with Kyle, it had been quite obvious what they had been doing.

And both were thoroughly convinced that he had heard Philip's scream.

"I-I, um..." Kyle stuttered, his face crimson.

"Kyle, I can explain," Philip said, but he realised that he couldn't. Explain to his pupil, who he was a role model for, that he had fallen in love with the Lord of Hell and just had sex with him?

"How, uh… How long as this been going on for?"

"This was _completely_ spontaneous..."

"Except that he _did_ suck my dick a little while ago."

Philip glared at him. "Damien-"

"What? He's your pupil. You can't just lie to him."

"But… No, you're right," Philip agreed, sighing. He locked eyes with Kyle, who seemed like he was on the verge of fainting. "The truth is that I've been feeling lust for Damien not long after we met. The reason why I locked myself away from everyone is because of… Well, what Damien said I did. I've realised recently that I actually feel love for him, not just sexual desires. I know it's a lot to take in, and I apologise that your mentor has been hiding such dark secrets away from not just you, but everyone."

Kyle was silent for several moments before he spoke. "Well, I can kind of understand. I mean, we get such strict rules and everything, so it must be frustrating. Plus… Well, you can't help who you fall for."

There seemed to be so much more of an understanding in those last words that Philip was about to question it, before he noticed Kyle's gaze on his right wing. Fearing the worst, he turned to face it, but felt mainly relief at the sight of just one black feather.

"Is that from..."

"Yeah, it is."

"I'll help you this time," said Damien. Philip thought he might have heard guilt evident in his voice. "I had to do this many times myself, after all."

He took Philip's hand to take him to the bathroom, ignoring Kyle's curious expression. He took a small bottom of a pain-relieving potion placed on the sink, poured a tiny amount on his fingers, and gestured for Philip to turn around. He massaged it into the area where the feather connected.

"I'm guessing you were in such a panic that you didn't think of preparing the nerves. I was the same," Damien murmured. His large hands massaged into the knots in Philip's shoulders. "Relax. Let it settle in."

Kyle, who was watching from the doorway, was surprised to see a small, loving smile on Damien's face. He felt somewhat disappointed that Philip couldn't see it, because it was simply beautiful. He would have never guessed that he would see such an expression on the Devil's face.

"Now, I'm going to pull it out on the count of three," said Damien. "Try to keep your shoulders relaxed. I know it's difficult, but it will hurt a lot less. Trust me."

Philip nodded, inhaling and exhaling deeply as he tried to relax his body. His eyes were closed, his head leaning slightly down.

"One… Two… Three."

Though he let out a small gasp, his reaction was a lot calmer. The area throbbed slightly and the removal had still stung, but nowhere near as much as it had previously. Grateful, he smiled at Damien. "Thank you."

"No need to thank me. I just didn't want you to go through any more pain."

They simply gazed at each other as a minute ticked by, the silence broken by Kyle.

"I won't tell anyone," he blurted out, his cheeks turning slightly pink with embarrassment when the two pairs of eyes fell on him. "That look you gave him… It was the same that Kenny gave me. You're not making any excuses to me – you're telling the truth. I can't say I recommend you doing this, considering I know what could happen, but I understand you perfectly. I don't want to ruin what you have, as complicated as it might be. You both have my word."

Philip smiled, happiness filling his chest. He walked over to pull his pupil into a hug.

"Thank you," he said. Though his pride for Kyle had grown time and time again, now he felt pure adoration for the young angel. He was definitely an anchor keeping him in Heaven – the thought of not being side by side by such an amazing boy was one which broke his heart.


	16. Eric Cartman

**A/N:** I'm sorry it took me so long to get this written. I've had many other things keeping me busy and with me battling severe exhaustion and pain constantly, it has been hard to build up the motivation to sit down and write this.

Due to the chapter being far too long if I combined the next main event in it, I decided to keep it shorter than usual so it wasn't too extensive and kept you waiting longer. Despite it mainly being a stepping stone and not exactly action-packed, I hope you enjoy it!

* * *

 **Afterlife's Council**

 **Chapter 16 - Eric Cartman**

* * *

It was several heart-warming moments before the two angels broke apart. Kyle was smiling, though it was quick to finish as he groaned and put a hand on his forehead.

"Ah crap, I forgot what I actually needed to tell you. I was distracted by..." He coughed. "I was distracted. Both Wendy and Bebe wanted you to know as soon as possible – Cartman has been seen in Heaven."

"What?" Philip gasped, his eyes widening. "He didn't break in, did he?"

"That's impossible," Damien reassured him. "He would have had to be let in. Basically, Gregory has given him permission to be here."

"Without informing any of us?"

"That's what Wendy was saying," said Kyle. "She said that Gregory would have never do something so drastic, especially as he previously said that Cartman is a suspect. She thinks it's because of… Well, how he's dying. It seems like he made an irrational decision due to his mind not being exactly how it was."

"He's mad now, basically," said Damien, raising an eyebrow when Philip dug his elbow into his side. "Come on, we were all thinking it!"

"Damien, I need you to go back to Hell. Can you break into his house?"

"Well yeah, naturally. But I've already checked it, Philip, and found nothing."

"Search again. Gregory has been too slow with this, taking the more gentle approach. If Cartman _is_ one of them, he needs to be found out immediately now that he has access here. And if you come across him, a bit of rough treatment won't hurt too much if he turns out suspicious."

"Right. And what about you two?"

"Kyle, I need you to go to Liane," said Philip. "She's great at meetings, so you could pretend you admire her and want advice. Lots of angels think I'm going downhill so she shouldn't question it. You could try to find out whilst being with her if she knows anything about her son being here and if she knows what he would be up to here."

"I'm on it."

"And you, Philip?" asked Damien.

"I'll go see Gregory. He needs a reality check."

The Devil nodded. He placed a hand on Philip's shoulder, looking at him with an expression of utterly sincere concern. It seemed almost fragile. "Stay safe."

"The same to you."

Philip's shoulder was squeezed before Damien flashed away in flames. Now accustomed to the heat this caused, Philip turned unnerved to Kyle and smiled.

"Good luck, Kyle. I know it won't exactly be easy."

"I'll still try my best."

The two left, both mentally preparing themselves for the tasks ahead. Hearts were pounding, minds were racing but faces were also etched in determination.

* * *

Philip wasn't sure how exactly Gregory would be. Would he be acting the same as ever and give a completely valid and reasonable explanation for his actions? Or would he really seem to be losing his mind, completely unable to think over his actions? Philip had witnessed the death of an angel before and it was very common for them to act in such a manner, especially if they had lived as long as Gregory.

Angels seemed to be almost jumping out of Philip's way as he walked. He assumed that it was his expression being the complete opposite of how it usually was. Regardless, he was permitted to visit Gregory, and knocked gently on the door.

"Gregory, sir? It's me."

He entered, expecting to see Gregory in a much worse state than he had been previously, but was surprised to see that he looked relatively the same. Despite this, the dark circles shadowing the skin under his eyes and the pale, sweaty face were things Philip couldn't get used to and reminded him that Gregory was indeed dying.

After Philip's eyes briefly glanced over at loose feathers in a trash can, he swallowed and spoke. "How are you feeling?"

"Splendid." The sarcasm was obviously to cause humour and relaxation, but if anything, it made Philip feel worse as it reminded him of the extent of his Lord's suffering. "Is there any reason for your visit?"

"Well, I, uh… I was curious about your intentions in regards to Cartman being allowed in Heaven."

"Eric Cartman is someone who has been working tremendously with me. If I cannot work constantly myself, I need him to be here to look over the records of angels. I have had no choice in the matter. Did I not explain this?"

"No, sir. You did not speak to any of your subordinates about your decision. It is why I came to question you about it."

"I did not?" Gregory blinked. He frowned, his eyebrows furrowing. "I'm sure I… No wait, I must have..." He winced and rubbed his temples. "My apologies, Philip, I thought I had spoken to you..."

Philip opened his mouth but was unable to speak any words. Reality over Gregory was striking him more by the minute. "No, none of us knew, so we all thought it was… Well, a… I don't mean to sound rude, sir, but we thought you had made a rash decision in your poor health."

"I can assure you that I had reasons, even if they _were_ rash," said Gregory. "I can forbid him from entering at any time, so if he ends up causing any trouble at all, I will see to that immediately and inform Damien so he can get the suitable level of punishment. He has not done so already, has he?"

"No, not yet. I was only told by Kyle that he had been seen here."

"I see. Do not worry, Philip; I will solve any issue that could arise, but I believe that this is for the best. We cannot drag this out any longer, not since the missing souls have yet to be found."

Philip nodded. "Then I will let you rest." He turned and headed for the door, turning back for just a moment. He was unable to let his gaze stay on the figure in the bed, who suddenly looked vulnerable with his eyes closed. Philip was quick to leave, his eyes barely taking in what was around him as he closed the door. He saw a blur of white walk past and heard the sound of sheets dropping to the floor. Blinking, he turned to look at them, and allowed his eyes to focus so he could pick them up and hurry after the person who had passed.

"I think you may have-"

He stopped when he turned around the corner and saw the contrast of white clothes and black wings. And a dead end.

With no time to move, his arm was grabbed roughly as he was turned round and slammed into the wall, pain shooting through the nerves located at the base of his wings. His wide eyes stayed fixed on the gleaming red eyes hovering over him.

"Eric Cartman," he said, admittedly proud at how his voice stayed calm. "May I ask what the Hell you are doing?"

"Ironic use of words there," he said. "I have access to Heaven now, as you know."

"Unfortunately so."

"And why does that upset you?" He leaned in closer to whisper, "Is it because you think I'm one of those in the rebellion?"

"Lucky guess."

"You're absolutely right, Philip."

He blinked, stunned. Did Cartman just confess that easily? Was this a complete joke?

"What-"

"Come on, you've known all along that I would be one of them. Rebelling against rules? Torturing souls? Why wouldn't _Eric Cartman_ want that?"

"Why are you telling me this? Gregory is less than a minute walk away, I could just-"

"But you won't. And you know why, Philip? Because your precious pupil's blood would be on your hands. Report me? Why, an angel's hand might just end up slipping and slit his throat."

"Who… Your mother." The realisation struck like a knife to the chest. "You and your mother are working together."

"10 points to you. Oh, and don't forget that we have a few souls in our possession which we can kill one by one if you go against me."

For a moment, Philip questioned to hurry to tell Gregory about the situation and have Kyle be protected before he could be harmed. But then he remembered what he had instructed his pupil to do: go to her himself. He couldn't be sure of what could happen if angels barged into her house; she could harm him in that instant. Kyle had already been through enough, not to mention that being harmed more could shorten his life span. Who knew if she had the Sword of Vita anyway? He couldn't be sure of anything now. She was one of the most common people to guard it. It wouldn't surprise him if she had it in her possession right there and now.

Not to mention that the blood of another soul aside from Kyle's could be on his hands. He was already tainted enough to fear that more than anything.

"Why confess to me?" Philip asked instead. "What good does this bring you? Satisfaction of backing me into a corner?"

"Partly. But Philip, we want you."

"Me?"

"It's been quite clear that you're not quite as pure as you used to be," Cartman extended. "That combined with your intelligence makes you perfect. No one understands where we are coming from, you know. Yeah, our methods are harsh, but what we're striving for is worth it. All those rules chaining us to our responsibilities, preventing us from seeing our loved ones? We're fighting against that."

"By murdering a soul and then capturing others? How does that work?"

"It's the principal behind it, and also to show that we _can_ fight what controls us. With this, I've been able to see my mother at long last. It's really not as evil as you may think."

"But who can you fight against? There is no one who can change our system because of your actions."

"You're wrong. The system is still in place because everyone, including Damien and Gregory, are too scared and weak to fight against it. When we come out on top, we'll take charge."

"I'm not joining you."

"For now. You'll change your mind sooner than you think. You're destined to not be good, Philip. It's in your heart now."

With one last smirk, Cartman vanished. As soon as the body which was blocking his way was gone, Philip dropped to his knees. He faced the floor, watching one bead of sweat drop onto it from his forehead. He had no idea what to do.

* * *

"Thank you, Liane. I appreciate the advice."

"Not a problem, dear. You can visit me any time you need to."

Kyle sighed when he was back on the pavement, brushing a hand through his wild red curls. Well, that wasn't exactly the results he had hoped for. He got a lot of sickly sweet reassurance followed by very little of what he actually wanted to know. He felt a little useless for it, but at the same time, he was glad they were being more direct in regards to a suspect.

People had naturally been questioned, but in Heaven especially, progresses had been far too slow. There seemed so much hesitation in doing potentially impure persuasion, which was understandable. Though as he was an angel with the sins of a human still existing within him, he couldn't help but feel as though their actions had been too soft and slow up to date.

Incredibly preoccupied by his own thoughts, he bumped into a figure and immediately apologised.

"It's all right," said the angel – the voice mature and feminine. "Are you okay, Kyle?"

"I'm fine," he smiled, looking at the face of Wendy Testaburger. Bebe stood besides her; unsurprisingly so, considering the two were often together more than they were not recently.

"The two of us have… Well, been talking," she said. "And we believe that everything has seemed to kind of slow down."

"I'm glad it wasn't just me who thought so."

"It seems wrong to go behind Gregory's back," said Bebe. "But… Well, he just doesn't seem capable anymore. All these rash decisions, especially with Cartman…"

"Is there a possibility he's being manipulated by Cartman?" Kyle questioned suddenly.

"Most definitely so," Wendy nodded. "Cartman is a very manipulative individual. So the more that Gregory becomes ill, the more he can be taken advantage off."

"So you believe that Cartman is a culprit."

"I cannot say for sure. I suspect him, but he might also have other reasons for wanting to manipulate Gregory. Perhaps he needs to prove himself somehow, or anything along those lines."

"Wait, there's Philip," Bebe said, looking apologetic at cutting up Wendy, but she seemed more bothered by Philip's expression. "What's the matter?"

The angel breathed in deeply. His face was one which was obviously troubled; he swallowed, unable to think of what to say. He quickly brushed down his messy hair and crumpled clothes from Cartman's force when eyes focused on them.

"I'm fine," he said simply, turning to Kyle. "How did it go?"

"I didn't find anything out, I'm sorry."

"It's all right, I don't blame you."

 _'It's not as though I don't know myself anyway,'_ he then said to himself mentally.

"How did what go?" Bebe asked, raising an eyebrow.

"I, uh, went to go question Liane. It was to try and see if I could find anything out about Cartman."

He half-expected Wendy to scold him, but was surprised to see her looking satisfied.

"Good. That's the kind of thing we need right now. I am sick to death of sitting around just researching when we could potentially have a link right there. Though I have a bunch of paperwork to do so I can't stay around for much longer to help with this..."

"I'll help you," said Bebe immediately. "I haven't got any and you need help with the extra workload you have, especially whilst Token deals with his own."

Wendy smiled, "Thank you, it is much appreciated."

Kyle turned to Philip after the two girls left, trying to stop himself from frowning. Once again, it was clear that he was hiding something. But unlike before, it wasn't completely unclear. Philip was agitated, perhaps fearful but also filled with anger. He wasn't concealing it very well.

And with the following warning muttered to him, it was obvious that Philip had no choice but to remain secretive:

' _Please stay safe.'_


	17. Revealed

**A/N:** Wow, I don't actually remember the last time I updated this quickly. Only a little chapter, though! I find updating more regularly is better than doing long chapters which possibly drag on. The next one may be longer, though; it depends on how many words it takes to write it.

Anyway, enjoy!

* * *

 **Afterlife's Council**

 **Chapter 17 - Revealed**

* * *

 _Breathe in, breathe out…'_

It was something he was always told when he was alive to calm panic and anxiety. Breathe slowly and clear your mind. Relax. Breathe. Don't let your thoughts consume you – take notice of the problem, and come back to yourself in the here and now. And again, breathe.

But those kind of techniques could only work if you were in a situation in which they could be applied. The situation he was in right now was still being chained to a stone wall after what felt like years. How the pain in his body was excruciating. They said it was to convince an old friend of his to join them on their road to achieving their goals. He had no idea who this 'friend' was.

He had been told upon his arrival in Heaven that he would now have an afterlife of harmony, his previous mental illnesses nothing but a distant memory. The twisted mind which had caused him to stand on that rooftop, only to slip and fall when he'd had a change of heart, was something which had been cured following his death. And God, how he had been ready to 'live' peacefully until the time came where he would want another chance to live. But now his captivity was driving him insane once more.

He wished for death, but Tweek Tweak was already dead. He couldn't wait for that release to free him. He instead had to wish for the 'friend' to come. The 'friend' which he had been told wanted to see him. The 'friend' who he didn't know the face or voice of, the one who seemed to know him, but not the other way around.

So when he heard an unfamiliar voice outside of the door, he lifted his head, ignoring the sharp pain shooting down his spine.

"Is he really-"

A boy had burst into the room, slightly panting as he brushed black strands of hair away from deep blue eyes. They widened as they landed on Tweek, both in shock and in horror.

"What the fuck did you do, Cartman?" the boy screamed, grabbing the collar of a wide figure Tweek was all too familiar with. "He doesn't remember a damn thing about me! He didn't deserve this shit!"

"I didn't do this," Cartman responded calmly. "I told you. The angels did. They did this to try and put something on us. Don't you see? The ones everyone is hunting aren't the ones causing all of this chaos. It's Heaven, trying to make demons seem so damn evil so that they give themselves a perfect image."

The fact that Cartman could lie so smoothly was almost as terrifying as his actions. There had been one angel who had visited Tweek, and from what he had overheard, he was sure that other angels worked with the demons, too. But his throat was in agony from screaming, and he was so shaken up that he could barely muster up the voice to speak. He felt too weak to even stay conscious. Being so was agony.

If only he had the capability, he would say this to the boy he did not know, but knew Tweek.

"But angels are working with you, aren't they?"

"Whether they are or not, who says that the rest of Heaven still don't want to give us a bad image?"

There was silence. The dark-haired demon was clearly trying to think logically, but his eyes were frantic. He stepped forward when they landed on Tweek's, but Cartman's hand stopped him.

"What are you going to do? These chains can't be undone by a demon. Only an angel of death or an angel can do it, considering they're Heaven's chains."

"Then go get Clyde, or anyone! Just get someone to release him! Why would you free me if you just torture me like this?"

"Someone is getting Clyde right now. But we'll only help you if you help us. We want you on our side, Craig. What's there to lose?"

Craig bit his lip. "I wanted to. God, I just wanted to use you to reunite us all together, and now-"

"We can help you reach that, _if_ you join us. We're completely serious about this. We wouldn't have broken you out otherwise."

"Craig!" The shout made Craig turn around quickly, locking eyes with his frantically running friend. "Where is-"

He skidded to a halt, almost tripping over his own feet, when his gaze found Tweek chained to the wall behind Craig, his body filled with scattered lacerations. A soul, Craig's old friend, which had meant to be living an afterlife of peace and harmony had suffered torture which he couldn't possibly imagine.

"That's the person you can save if-"

" _Fine!_ For fuck's sake, we'll work with you. Just free him, Clyde!"

"I don't have the key, but I can try to use my power to break through," he said. He hovered his hands over one of the locks, a mixture of black and white light radiating from them. It only took merely a minute for it to come undone. Craig held Tweek upright whilst Clyde worked on the other lock; both caught him when he fell completely against them, his body in shock from finally moving again.

"Good job," Craig said quietly, the words simple but filled with immense gratitude. However, Clyde shook his head.

"That was way too easy. Them breaking us out, the easiness of this…"

"Your story was a filthy lie," Craig said in a low voice. He shifted the weight of Tweek so that Clyde supported him completely, allowing Craig to step forward. "What the fuck are you going to gain by setting this up? As if I'll work with you all now!"

"But if you don't, you'll all die here." Another voice had spoken from the doorway, a voice familiar to him. "I feel like we're currently too close to being figured out – at least, most of us are. We need more people to throw them off. Why not have someone with your intellect to do it?"

"You..." Craig glared at the figure, rage building up inside of him. "Of all people, why-"

"Ten seconds," they interrupted. They were walking closer, the Sword of Vita pulled out from behind their back. "Ten seconds to decide whether or not you'll join us."

Craig thought fast. His decision was equal to that quickness.

"GO!" he shouted at Clyde. "You can take one of us – take Tweek. Go!"

"But you'll-"

"Clyde!"

He swallowed, unable to build up his voice to say goodbye, though he didn't have the time regardless despite the regret he would feel over parting without any last words. A heavy pain lodged in his chest, he vanished with Tweek, and a small smile tugged on the corners of Craig's lips. Perhaps, if the ashes which would be left of him could be reborn eventually, he would once again meet his best friend again after countless centuries passed.

"Why would you do that?" he was asked. "You've dreamt of being reunited with all three of them. So why sacrifice yourself like that?"

"Tweek doesn't remember any of us. I know now that it was completely pointless. I haven't been happy for a long time – but Tweek? He has the chance to live again. I'd rather die than him. Hell, it's not like I deserve life more than he does. He needs another chance."

"How very noble of you. Still, it's a no?"

"There's no way in Hell that I'd work with you."

"Ironic thing for you to say."

The Sword was plunged into Craig's chest, spurting blood onto the stone floor below their feet. He coughed, allowing one final glare to be fixed on his killer, an act of defiance, before his body transformed into ashes.

"Now you know your place." A foot was stamped onto the ashes as they turned to Cartman, their voice calm. "Looks like it went down one of the paths we had hoped for. Let's go reveal ourselves."

* * *

Philip awaited the arrival of Damien in central, ready to tell him of Wendy and Bebe's thoughts and agreements. Kenny had been sent for him, whilst Kyle stayed with Philip. The superior tried to make out as though this was due to him wanting to discuss Kyle's visit to Leanne in more detail, hoping to see if there was any hidden, subtle hints behind the woman's words. It wasn't completely a lie. But of course, the main reason was that Philip was too concerned to leave Kyle on his own. He was certain that Cartman wouldn't do anything yet, but at the same time, his anxiety was too strong.

"Philip?" Kyle suddenly said softly. Philip turned to him. "Look, I know you probably can't tell me why… But I want you to know that if there is anything that's on your mind about me, I'll be fine. You just seem… I don't know. Worried, but also protective of me."

"You catch on quickly."

"Did anything happen, Philip?"

Philip sighed, shaking his head. "I promise I wouldn't keep anything hidden from you if I could. I'm moving on from how I used to be. If I had a choice in this, I promise that I would be completely honest with you. Unfortunately, I'm in a situation where I can't say anything to you."

"That's… Well, better than I expected." Kyle decided to change the subject. "I wonder what's taking those two so long."

"I'm not sure myself."

"Maybe Damien was just in the middle of doing something? Perhaps he's still searching Cartman's home?"

Philip nodded in agreement. For a few heart-pounding, anxious moments, he worried that something may have happened to Damien. But then he quickly brought himself back to reality, knowing that no one could overthrow Damien. Philip guessed that his worry over Kyle was overriding his emotion, and he breathed out, knowing he had to keep himself under control.

"He'll be back soon. He's probably just-"

He stopped speaking when there was a flash of black and white in front of him. He expected Kenny, but what he saw instead was two smaller figures than the one he was familiar with.

"Quick, take him!" screamed the voice of Clyde Donovan, practically pushing a shaking blond boy towards them, who Kyle jumped forward to grab onto. "They're coming, you've got to-"

"Who? Who is coming?" Philip asked, his eyes glancing over at the ripped clothes and cut skin of the whimpering soul in Kyle's arms.

"The culprits, the ones who have been behind this – they're going to take over, it's-"

A loud gasp escaped Philip's lips when in yet another flash appeared in front of them, not even completely disappearing before a sword was plunged through Clyde's chest. It was then pulled out, the murderer barely glancing at the one they had just attacked. Clyde actually seemed to smile as he fell into ashes. To Philip and Kyle, this was peculiar, neither knowing that the smile was brought on by the hope that his soul would be recycled in a way which would allow him to reborn at the same time as his best friend.

"My my, what an utter waste of air."

Philip locked eyes with the wielder of the sword, and as he did so, his heart felt broken. Heavy betrayal washed over him, consuming his emotions, his hope.

Because perhaps he should have seen it; perhaps he should not have been so blind. A clueless angel wandering in the darkness caused by reassuring, useful words. If only he had avoided this blindness, he could have avoided being so betrayed.

* * *

 **A/N:** I'm sorry if this feels rushed at all... Saying that, it is chapter 17, so maybe I shouldn't doubt it so much.

Shit's going down in the next chapter, and then after that, it's the end. I've loved this story. Admittedly, I've been heavily brought down at times due to me thinking I would receive more feedback in return for my efforts. But at the same time, I have enjoyed writing it.

Please take a moment to leave your thoughts to help motivate me for all I have to write in the next chapter! Thank you for reading!


	18. Revolution

**A/N:** So... It's here. The second to last chapter. Technically it is the 'proper' last one, as the next is a shorter epilogue. There aren't any line breaks, but hopefully it entertains you enough so that doesn't matter. Enjoy!

* * *

 **Afterlife's Council**

 **Chapter 18 - Revolution**

* * *

Philip's eyes blurred out the world around him; not from tears, but simply because his mind was filled with such overwhelming emotion which caused it unable to focus his eyes. As though the rest of his body was struggling to function, he ended up stumbling to the side, barely managing to catch himself.

"You… You..."

"I?"

He opened his mouth to speak, a thousand possible words to string together to express himself, but they lodged in his throat. 'Lodged' may have actually been too gentle of a word for the stabbing of his throat, a sword plunged into the words he wanted to speak, sticking them painfully in place. This pain was tantamount to that in his chest.

"How could you?" The trembling voice was not Philip, but Kyle stood behind him, hugging the shaking soul close to him, who latched on in fear. "How… How could it have been you..." The voice became quieter, trailing off in disbelief.

Philip's eyes finally focused when a hand was put on his shoulder. Said eyes looked up at the taller figure in front of him and glared.

"What an angry expression," said the Lord of Heaven. "I thought you, of all people, would understand where our ideals lie."

"Your ideals lie in betraying all those who work for you and more," Philip whispered, clenched his hands into fists. "Don't you dare touch me with those blood-stained hands."

"Just listen to me, Philip," Gregory sighed. "I only want what's best-"

"You haven't got the power to instruct me on what to do. You're already on your way to becoming an angel of death."

Gregory turned his head to look at his wings, staring at the black feathers which now had covered some of the upper part of them. "Not quite… My conscience is not strong enough. Sins only stain you completely if you have guilt over what you do… Though I would like-"

"How can you speak like nothing has happened?" Philip suddenly screamed. "You… You, the one who has been there for me during all of my time as an angel, the one who has been called the greatest God of history! You, the one who is meant to represent all things pure… I just saw you kill Clyde… How many more have you killed?"

"I have not gone on a mad killing spree, Philip."

"Oh no, you have just betrayed all of us instead." Though rage still burned inside him, his words were now softer. They were hurt, vulnerable. "I don't… I don't believe it..."

"Believe it, Philip. Accept reality."

They were interrupted by the familiar flash signalling the arrival of an angel of death. Unsurprisingly, it was Kenny, with Damien resting a hand on his shoulder. He removed it as he frowned at the scene before him. He seemed rather composed, but the twitching of an eyebrow and a fist almost closing suggested rage which he was attempting to hide.

"The Cartmans? I'm not surprised. But you… I thought you were dying."

Gregory shrugged. "I still only have a few decades. But evil deeds… They make you ill. Perhaps Philip would know of that?"

"Do not bring me into your sins," Philip spat. "You still haven't answered me. Why? Why are you on their side?"

"Don't you already know of our goals? Philip, we seek a more equal world for all of us. Drastic measures had to be made to overthrow what was in place. To resist against the rules is one of the steps to change them." Gregory's smirk faded, his eyes looking at the ground. "It all started from a wish we all seem to have – to meet another. My best friend… My precious best friend from countless centuries ago… Christophe." He shook his head, his previous darker, less vulnerable expression returned. "No. That was what may have been a stepping stone, but now I want much more. I want power over others who failed to do what I have done. To lead people not afraid to live against rules. Of course, duties are important… But smaller, silly rules?"

"Some rules are ridiculous, many of us agree with that much," Damien said calmly. "But others are necessary, and this is not the way to fight against what is wrong."

"I also wanted to help others reach happiness." Gregory turned to Cartman by his side. The demon nodded, turning to Wendy, who was watching the scene with Bebe by her side.

"Is it so hard to imagine that some of us just want to be with that one person?" he questioned. "Wendy-"

"Don't call me by my given name."

"You were someone I've fallen in love with over time during meetings. I've hated you. But damn, that's not all."

"You're crazy if you think I'll listen to a confession right now."

"But can't you see-"

"I see none of it. This is ridiculous."

"I do hate to tell you that I knew this would be her reaction," Gregory sighed. He handed the knife to Cartman. "Go on. Ease your pain. Rid the world of her so you can move on."

"How is this justice?" Philip shouted. "How is this improving things? Killing her won't do anything!"

"I need strong, efficient followers. Any weaknesses must be removed."

"I am not a weakness." If she was frightened, she was certainly not showing this; she stood her ground, her expression and voice firm. "Do not treat me like a toy which can just be discarded away. Cartman, I'm sorry I have refused to accept your feelings. But this won't solve anything."

"But it will," Gregory said quietly to Cartman. "Eric, you know that once she is out of your way, your vision will be clear. You will be stronger. I've already told you that if you can't obtain what you want, then you must push it aside and move on..."

"Don't you dare," Damien growled. "As your Lord, I demand you-"

"You're not my Lord!" Cartman screamed, dashing forward towards Wendy. Damien tried to grab him, bellowing out in pain when the blade was slashed across his arm, and no others were able to stop the demon before his sword was plunged forward – but not through Wendy.

" _NO!"_ she screamed, grasping onto Bebe's body for just a moment, before it transformed to ashes in her arms. " _BEBE!_ Oh God no, please, no… Come back, come back…

She fell down onto her knees, the ashes running through her trembling, desperate fingers. Her head flew back as she howled; it was the most heart-breaking, cruel sound ever to fall on the witness' ears. When Token crouched besides her, pulling her into his arms, she didn't move, didn't speak; her eyes and mouth were wide, her face in utter distress as she could not accept reality.

"No – No, I didn't-"

Cartman too fell to his knees, the sword clanking to the floor next to him. It was immediately picked up by Gregory, who whistled as he stroked two fingers across the perfectly polished steel.

"How pathetic. After all the evil you have done, you're acting like this over killing someone who did not even matter to you."

"But Wendy-"

"I cannot listen to your whimpering any longer."

It was hardly a surprise when Cartman was the next to fall. Liane screamed, running out to Gregory – her God laughed, kicking her to the floor. Even still, the top of his wings would not change entirely – perhaps the murder of an angel would have been different, but the murder of a demon did not plague his mind at all. It was clear by this point that those around him had no worth, their loss bearing nothing on his conscience.

"He was weak. Just a spare. Apparently, you are as well."

"You're crazy," Philip said, his voice quiet. Tears were rolling down his cheeks. "You're absolutely crazy."

"Perhaps so. But I would rather feel this crazed than be emotional like the rest of you. Wendy… Philip… Kyle… Why are you all crying? In this system, she was just another cog in the machine… No real worth. She only existed to do her job."

"She was _Bebe!"_ Kyle shouted, pushing Kenny, who was comforting him, gently to one side. "Her existence had meaning, just like the rest of us!"

"None of us have meaning, Broflovski. We're all just servants for the design of life, keeping it going because _someone_ has to. How many humans do you really think believe in the work of us now, think about the gruelling, tiresome work that we deal with? I can assure you that it's now very little. It's a flawed life, and I will not stand for it any more. I want us to live how _we_ want to."

"Your words have meaning and I am sure that if the circumstances were differently, we would agree with you," said Damien. "But the way you have approached this has been irrational. Satan of all people is telling you that you're just simply evil by this point."

"Evil is too little harsh for him," Wendy whispered, her hand in Token's as she looked up at Gregory, tears falling out of narrowed eyes even still. "You are the embodiment of it, treating us all like scum and that we mean nothing."

Liane was nodding – previously on Gregory's side, now with the rest. Somewhat of an outcast, but distraught with the pain of losing her son, the only reason she had been fighting alongside Gregory.

"I don't know how you can live with the burden of your crimes," Philip whispered, his hands clenching into fists. "The one person I always looked up to, the purest of them all. I adored you, but now, I couldn't despise you more."

"You are not exactly pure yourself, now are you?" Philip blinked, glancing over at Damien for a brief moment, but not brief enough for the hawk's gaze of Gregory. "Oh yes, that's what I mean. Dear Philip, did you not know that intercourse with a demon was forbidden, never mind Satan?"

The gasps and shocked looks around him made Philip's face flush with embarrassment, but he stood his ground.

"I hardly believe that can compare to your own sins. But how did you know?"

"Impurity can be sensed by any angel, as you know. But being God has the perk of sensing this more. I could smell that stench on you, that you had been stained by him. Did you believe that I would not notice just because you removed the black feathers from your wings?" Gregory glanced at one of his own wings, stroking the few turned feathers on himself with his spare hand. "I of course have done the same. Until now, I could not afford to allow this side show… Though as time went by, black feathers became a lot less common, as my conscience over my actions faded. Murder like I have committed this evening has done so more than usual, but still not enough… I have lost my mind, I have no conscience left. And now, I know that you yourself will be stained further."

He threw the sword by Philip's feet. The metal clanked, and it settled on the floor, left where it was as Philip looked down at it with surprise, before diverting his gaze back to Gregory.

"I need to be punished for my sins, do I not? My message has been sent. I have changed history for angels and demons alike. I will happily fall now, before my natural demise is no longer preventable, and my long life finally comes to an end."

"I am not like you. I will not murder."

"Damien, please tell him that this needs to be done."

"Do you have a death wish?" Damien said lowly. "Because I will kill you myself."

"I would rather my old pupil." Gregory raised an eyebrow. "Do you not want to be with Damien, to live a life more free than that of an angel gives you?"

"Not like this. I-"

"Kill me, Philip. I know that you have it in you."

Philip bit his lip, a whirl of emotions and conflicting desires rushing through his mind. When his body began to lower, Kyle jumped out and grabbed his arm.

" _No,_ Philip! You can't!"

"I guess you cannot do it after all," Gregory shrugged, walking forward. "I always knew that you were weak… Pathetic..."

"I am not." Philip pushed Kyle away, picking up the Sword. "I will prove that I am not."

"Good for you, Philip."

Gregory was slightly startled when the Sword was thrown back to him, though managed to grasp it in a firm grip and not show his surprise. "My, _I'm_ the one with a death wish?"

"I will not kill you." Philip put his arm out to one side. In a flash of beautiful, brilliant white light, a spear formed itself in his hand. He spun it around with ease before it fell in front of him, gripped with both hands. "But I will fight you, beat you and let you be imprisoned for the remainder of your life."

"Your angel's weapon? I'm impressed. Come then, Philip – prove me wrong. Show me what you are made of."

Everyone backed away naturally as the fight commenced. Gregory made the first move, jumping forward with the Sword – it barely missed Philip's head, just skimming his hair as the angel slid onto the floor past Gregory, pointing his spear up. It was blocked instantly.

"Have you ever fought before, Philip?"

"Only in basic training."

"Natural intuition, then… Impressive."

Philip jumped to his feet, blocking an attack as well – the clashes continued, the sounds echoing in the watchers' ears. Both moved well, perfectly in sync; it was difficult to tell who would come out on top. The angel with less experience, or the dying Lord of Heaven?

Philip jumped back, plunging the spear forward – Gregory leapt to the side and grabbed onto the spear. He was about to attack back with his own weapon, but Philip's movements were swifter. He pushed his body up using his hands on the spear, sending his foot into Gregory's face. He stumbled, not able to maintain balance properly before the spear was plunged into his stomach. He gasped, but the expression was quick to change; his wide eyes narrowed, his lips smirking once again.

"Philip, though you can hurt me, your weapon cannot do much against a fellow angel." He started, with a shaking grip, to pull the spear out of his body, forcing it against Philip's strength. "Whilst you need many blows to even injure me enough for me to land on my knees, I only need one to take you down."

Philip's body lacked enough power; he fell back as the spear's handle was pushed into him, his body freezing when Gregory tackled him to the ground. He barely had the chance to grab onto Gregory's hands and stop the knife from being plunged into his neck, but just managed to do so, his spear discarded by his side.

"Even now, you're weaker than me," Gregory said as they struggled. "I'm dying, Philip, and you cannot even overpower me? Though that has always been the case with you, has it not? In your life, you were forced into the streets, selling your body because you had no other means… Now your body belongs to someone else _again,_ doesn't it? You don't even have the power to claim your body and life as your own… You cannot make your own choices, say no to others. It really is quite pathe-"

Gregory was cut off when Philip, overcome with rage, used all the strength in his upper body to throw Gregory off him, slipping the Sword into his own hands as he did so. He crouched over Gregory, the blade posed at his enemy's neck.

"Yes, I had no choice in my life as a human. But that was not my choice. It is what I had to do for myself and others. If I could have chose differently, I would have done so in a heartbeat. But now with Damien? It's different. I've wanted this with him for a long time, not long after we met. I was just too scared to do so. Of the consequences, of how _wrong_ it was… But it is my choice. I love Damien, Gregory; I'll happily admit that to everyone here, including him. And love isn't something you can understand."

"I suppose it isn't, is it? It was my drive for this at first, but now… I can hardly say I have any love left."

Philip nodded. His eyes now cold, he pressed down the blade, a bead of blood tricking out Gregory's skin-

"Philip, don't!" Kyle shouted. "There's no going back after this… Please Philip, don't do it. We'll just imprison him, like you said."

"But I've hit a nerve, have I not?" asked Gregory, tilting his head to one side. "You are angry – no, _furious._ You want to kill me. You want to punish me for what I've done."

"Shut up."

"Look at you, avoiding the truth..."

"Philip, please-"

The voices around him could no longer be heard. They seemed to be utterly distant from him, unable to be heard at all as though he was trapped inside a twisted nightmare. His hands shook, conflicting emotions building up inside of him. Were they whispering his name, or screaming it? He could not tell which it was, not be able to pick up the desperation in their panicked voices. The only voice that broke through to Philip's ears was Gregory's.

"Remember what happened to Stan? That was because of me. All that pain that Kyle went through, so soon after becoming an angel… Craig was killed, Clyde was too… Cartman, Bebe… I know you're angry, Philip. So do it. _Do it._ "

"Shut up. Just shut up, shut up, shut up..."

"It's what you want. And then you can have what you desire most. Bring yourself happiness, Philip. Bring justice to this world. Do it-"

" _NO!"_

The scream was finally heard by Philip, but it was seconds too late – the blade had been sliced across Gregory's throat. The ghost of a wicked smirk rested on the face of a betrayer before it vanished away into ashes. Then Philip heard another scream. The harsh ache of his throat moments later confirmed that this was his own.

Pain shot through the nerves in is wings, spreading across the base and onto his back. A horrid burning which caused heavy nausea to build inside his stomach seemed to flare up inside his whole body. Was that noise really him? It sounded inhumane, like an animal – but the pain, that unbearable, excruciating sensation which seemed to be tearing him at the seams…

"Philip," was sobbed. He managed to turn his head, locking eyes with Kyle, his face stained with tears. "Philip, please… You can still be an angel of death… There's still a few white feathers left."

There was? But no, he didn't want to live a lonely life inside of Purgatory… After all of this, he wanted no trace of an angel left. After all, the angel he had been inspired by the most turned out to not be very much like an angel at all.

"Please… Stay with me..."

He almost gave in to those desperate pleas, wanting to stop those pitiful cries –

But then he remembered the sins he committed with the man he loved, how much he had yearned to become closer, break the walls separating them. And so, he allowed those last few feathers to turn to the colour of the darkest night, reflecting how much he had now been stained.

* * *

 **A/N:** I'm hoping that it wasn't overly predictable? I wanted to hint at both Gregory and Damien... Hmm. I'm also worried it's all very rushed. Unfortunately, my health makes me struggle a lot with writing nowadays, so I lack confidence in results. But I hope you enjoyed it!

The epilogue will be shorter, just to show what the results of this were. I hope that you're looking forward to it!


	19. Epilogue

**A/N:** Look at me being active on here recently, _God bless_

Please take the time to read the note at the end, but for now, I hope you enjoy this!

* * *

 **Afterlife's Council**

 **Epilogue**

* * *

The demon slowly opened the signature red eyes of his race, taking in the darkness of the room around him. After blinking, he sat up, stretching out great, black feathered wings; carefully, of course, so they did not brush against the sleeping man next to him. Raven hair blended in with the darkness of the bed sheets, but the pale skin was a stark contrast. The demon smiled.

Philip Pirrup often felt regret over the life he was now leading. He abandoned his old life to live a new one full of more freedom. He did not know whether he was brave for making such a bold decision, or cowardly and foolish for letting everything go after all he had fought for. Usually, he believed the latter, but was still at least partly in favour of the path he had chosen. He had been suffering for a long time. He had worked himself to the point of being ill, just like he had done in his life as a human. He had always been controlled, pushed to both his physical and mental limits. Was it so wrong that he chose a different path? Perhaps. But there was no going back, not for only the third demon in history to had originally been an angel.

The smile which had vanished due to his thoughts reappeared when Damien Thorn's eyes opened. They landed on him; the bewitching red irises which used to make him shudder now warmed his heart, much unlike the cold sensation which radiated from their kind.

"How long have you been watching me?" Damien asked, sitting up in their bed, not breaking eye contact.

"Not very long. Just a couple of minutes."

Smiling, Damien took Philip's hand and placed a kiss onto it.

"You have an Afterlife's Council meeting today, right?" he asked.

"I do. Kyle and Kenny will both be there for this one."

"I'm glad."

Philip had not been thrown into a life where he _never_ saw his old companions. Their time was limited, but life had been changing a little since the ordeal with Gregory. Rules and regulations still controlled their life to a degree, but freedom had increased for angels, demons and angels of death alike. A small but sufficient amount of time was allowed for Philip to see his friends. The awkward tension was also slowly drifting away. It was likely to always be there, but at least it had faded. Their smiles together were now genuine, their voices more similar to how they had been whilst working together.

And it was the kisses that their lips shared which helped to fight Philip's regret. He may have made the wrong choice, but if he did, he was still happy. His relationship with Damien would have likely drawn to a close otherwise. He had this love, but also the company of his friends. Yes, he may have betrayed them whilst his mind was in chaos from the manipulating words of Gregory, but there were positives behind his actions.

As wrong as he often felt, he did, at least, have these thoughts to calm his mind. He was quite simply a conflicted individual, relying on the words ' _I love you_ ', but he always had been. Now he was learning to become a new version of himself, letting go of the past.

He watched his purity scatter away like dust, watching it gradually wash away along with his drying tears of regret and sorrow.

* * *

"It's getting more comfortable speaking to Philip now, isn't it?" Kyle asked Kenny. The two were sitting crossed legged on a patch of grass, eating food together. Both stretched out their pure white wings behind them. As the great feathers of Kenny caught the rays of sunlight, Kyle smiled with pride.

"Definitely," Kenny agreed. "It was just so tense at first, but now it feels much more natural." He grinned when he saw Kyle's eyes look at his wings again. "Even now, you still can't stop looking at those, can you?"

"They just… Well, they're so beautiful." Kyle's cheeks went slightly pink and he cleared his throat. "Cheesy much?"

"Nope, it's just the right kind of fuel for my ego."

The wings were a literal sign of Kenny's journey. Originally a demon, he left behind his long, successful life of an angel of death to become an angel. Wendy, the new God, and her partner Token, both decided that for all the good he had done, Kenny had the right to live among the angels as one of them. He had been hesitant to say yes – after all, could he really let go his hard-working life as an angel of death? But eventually, he realised that the life he had lived then was more suitable for his past self. He still had feelings of being neutral within him, but his intentions were purer, his mind leaning more towards good. He had been told that he could return to his old life whenever he wished to. Perhaps one day he would, but for now, he enjoyed using his previous encounters with many souls to his advantage. That knowledge and experience of speaking with and meeting souls gave him a different kind of gaze upon fates than the majority of angels.

The addition of a wonderful new angel had helped heal the souls of those who missed Philip, though of course, everyone still had pain in their hearts. Most did not understand why someone they had once idolised would abandon them to live a life in Hell. Though even if they did not know him personally like others did, they _did_ have a little understanding in how Philip's mind had clearly been warped by Gregory. Perhaps without the words of encouragement to murder, he would not have committed the sin.

Without their leader and the loss of his higher-ups, the rebels were forced to a stop. Frightened that they would be found out and be punished further, the few angels of death who had been giving them assistance turned themselves in, allowing themselves to only be subject to imprisonment. At long last, the ordeal which had everyone looking over their shoulder as they feared for their lives drew to a close.

Kyle sighed and got to his feet, brushing off his trousers. "All right, we should go do our work." Kenny nodded, taking Kyle's hand as they left the scene.

They were more relaxed, more in control of their lives. Perhaps the journey they had went through did not have the typical, perfectly happy ending of a fairytale. But everyone had their own source of happiness. Hopefully, the sparks which were small amounts of positivity would burn brighter in time, into a truly brighter future for everyone. They deserved at least that for the pain they were forced to endure.

* * *

 **A/N:** Kept it short but (hopefully) sweet to finish it off.

Thank you for reading this fanfiction! Kudos to you if you made it to the end. I honestly have been so proud of this plot; though I'm not religious, I love representing it and my beliefs of how angels and demons _would_ work if they were real (not exactly with the meetings, but how they co-exist). Though I would have liked more activity from my readers, I pushed through regardless.

Even with how my health is now, I've been writing a lot more lately, especially now it's the holidays. I'll be uploading my next multi-chaptered fanfic soon (Seraph of the End), and I will hopefully be writing another one or two Christmas oneshots. A fandom you like might just pop up, so keep an eye out!

Anyway, thank you for reading, and I hope you enjoyed the story.


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